The Boys Of Summer
by flamingo
Summary: The history of two old friends ...
1. Default Chapter

Author's Notes: This is my take on how Jed and Leo might have met. The story is set at an event called Boys' Nation, which is the national level of Boys' State, a mock government event sponsored by the American Legion. It's a demanding application process, which suits our two brainiacs. The story is set at the University of California at Berkley, in August of 1957.   
  
  
  
I've already decided that I hate the guy sitting on the front row. We haven't been here for thirty minutes and I can already tell I'm going to hate him. I can't even see him from here; but his imperious voice is bouncing off the walls. I can tell you all about him without even seeing him.   
  
He sounds like New England. Rich New England. His parents probably let him fly out here by himself from wherever he came from; New Hampshire or Connecticut or wherever. I, on the other hand, had to work the entire beginning of the summer just to make enough money for a bus ticket. I'm also on work-study here, which guarantees about thirty seconds of free time the entire three weeks.   
  
I don't even know the other guy from Illinois. He introduced himself and said he was from Rockford or something ... I really wasn't paying attention. I don't really consider myself from Illinois yet. I feel like I should be sitting with the Massachusetts delegation. We just moved out to Chicago last summer.   
  
He's still prattling on about something. I bet the other kid from his delegation is wishing he'd stayed home right about now. Sorry, pal. You're going to be sitting in this room at Berkley for the next three weeks with no air conditioning, Roberts Rules of Parliamentary Procedure, and the kid that won't shut up.   
  
  
They finally let us out of our first session around six this evening and I had to immediately report to the kitchen for work. I didn't even have time to get back to the dorm and change out of my shirt and tie. The kitchen manager shoved an apron into my hand and stuck me at the front of the serving line. Tonight's special appears to be beef stew, though I wouldn't put my money on the ingredients.   
  
I don't even have to look up. I hear him coming from the opposite end of the cafeteria. Let's refer to 'him' as the Mouth. He's arguing about something. They get in line and I slop some of the stew into bowls for them.   
  
"So you're telling me you wouldn't ride the same bus as a black person," he says. I suck in a deep breath. I recognize the other kid as a delegate from Alabama and I know the Mouth is going to get himself into trouble in about thirty seconds.   
  
"No, I'm saying they don't deserve to ride buses in the first place," Alabama says. I get my first look at the Mouth. He's actually pretty normal looking. Dark hair, no glasses; he holds himself like he's got money. But he's turning red and I can tell he's really going to get himself in trouble. Alabama's a good six inches taller than he is.   
  
"So, in all your time studying at Cotton Pick High School, did you bother to read the Constitution of the United States?"   
  
Most of the cafeteria is quiet now. Two other guys get up from a nearby table and the Mouth seems to shrink back into his collar. Alabama grabs his shirt and shoves him into a stack of cafeteria trays.   
  
"Are we going to have a problem, nigger lover?" The two other guys are standing behind Alabama, ready to pounce. I take a deep breath and decide to step in.   
  
"Come on, fellas. Let's leave the debates on the floor and eat some dinner, huh?"   
  
Alabama and the two guys turn around. The Mouth, for once, says nothing.   
  
"Well, that's a perfectly Catholic solution there, Tam O'Shanter," one of Alabama's cohorts snaps. Alabama releases his hold on the Mouth's shirt. My blood is boiling but I stand my ground. The Mouth is now gaping like some sort of ridiculous fish.   
  
The three of them take their trays, never taking their eyes off of me, and sit down to eat. Conversations resume and I pull my eyes away from them to resume my task of nourishing America's finest young gentlemen. The Mouth stands there for a minute, but I don't look up. He leaves his tray and exits the cafeteria, probably in his own best interest.   
  
  
  
I finally finish kitchen duty around nine, and I stroll out of the cafeteria, ready to get back to my dorm, have a drink, and read myself to sleep. When I exit the building, the Mouth is waiting for me.   
  
"Hey," he says.   
  
"Hey," I nod, and continue walking.   
"Hey! Wait up!"   
  
I get a better look at him as he catches up with me. He must be a year or two my junior.   
  
"Thanks for what you did back there. It really means a lot," the Mouth says, falling into step beside me.   
  
"It's not that big a deal. Seriously, you gotta watch what you say. It's not safe to talk like that," I manage.   
  
"You wanna smoke?" The Mouth offers me a cigarette. I didn't pick the Mouth as a smoker. I laugh and decline. "Where are you from?"   
  
"I'm a delegate from Illinois," I reply. If I keep my answers short enough, maybe the Mouth will get the hint and go back to getting himself beat up.   
  
"You don't sound like Illinois. You sound like Boston," the Mouth replies. He puffs on his cigarette.   
  
"Yeah, I'm from Boston. My mom just moved us out here last summer," I reply.   
  
"I'm from New Hampshire. Manchester," the Mouth is warming up. He's going to keep me here all night if I don't do something.   
  
"Listen, you don't wanna get mixed up with me. You heard the guys back there. He's right you know; I'm a Catholic. I'm also on work-study, and I'm not what you would call the friendly type. Why don't you just go on back to the dorm and go to bed?"   
  
"There are two Catholic delegates here, you know. You can't take all the credit," the Mouth snaps back. I think he's irritated. Maybe he'll leave me alone.   
  
"And where do you get this information?"   
  
"My dad is on the Boys' Nation board. He was rather amused that more than one Catholic had the audacity to fill in the 'religion' section of the application."   
  
"And I suppose you're the other Catholic."   
  
"Yes."   
  
"What, your dad's not Catholic?"   
  
"No, is yours?"   
  
"My dad is dead."   
  
The Mouth is gaping at me again with the fish face. I shrug and keep walking.   
  
"Hey, wait a minute!"   
  
I stop again.   
  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. Seriously," the Mouth looks genuinely upset. He's a long way from New Hampshire.   
  
"I'm Leo McGarry," I say, offering the Mouth my hand.   
  
"I'm Jed Bartlet," the Mouth smiles. We continue walking towards the dorm.   
  
********************************************************************   
  
  
Four hours later, this Irish kid has beaten me at chess three times and gotten himself pretty drunk while doing it. I can't help but like him. I feel like I've met someone that's been living inside my brain for a year. He manages to say everything I want to say before I can say it.   
  
I wasn't all that surprised when my application was chosen to come to Boys' Nation. I pretty much ran State this year, much to the dismay of the upperclassmen. I'll be a sophomore this fall. I wish I could just graduate and get it over with. I'm already bored with high school.   
  
"So, Jed Bartlet. Where does the New Hampshire delegation stand on the segregation question?"   
  
"Segregation is unconstitutional, not to mention morally wrong. Where does the Illinois delegation stand?"   
  
"How the hell should I know? I don't even know the other kid," Leo gives me a lopsided grin. "Checkmate."   
  
"I don't know the other kid in my delegation either. I'm pretty sure whatever I say will trump any lame idea he's come up with," I respond, ignoring his fourth victory.   
  
"What do you say Illinois and New Hampshire work together and bring some serious segregation debate to the floor?"   
  
"I say I'm way ahead of you," I say as I start putting the chess set away. "I made sure that my dad put segregation on the agenda."   
  
"And how did you ensure that? Your dad sounds like he's not really susceptible to your opinion," Leo says, attempting to sit up from his lounging position on my dorm room floor.   
  
"I took all his papers to the post office this summer while they were finalizing plans," I smile. "I just made sure everything met my approval before mailing it off."   
  
Leo laughs. He throws his head back and almost howls.   
  
"You're a cocky little bastard, aren't you?"   
  
"So I've heard," I sigh. Leo is still trying to sit up.   
  
"What time is it, anyway?"   
  
"It's going on two," I say, glancing at my watch. Leo groans.   
  
"I have to be in the kitchen for breakfast duty at six-thirty," he says, and finally manages to sit up. "I should probably go to bed."   
  
"Do you ever go to sleep this early?"   
  
"No," he says, and struggles to get to his feet.   
  
"Me either," I say.   
  
"My baby sister calls me old man," Leo says, beginning his attempt at walking to the door. "I can see where she might have a point."   
  
He's struggling to stay upright. I'm not sure what was in that bottle he finished, but it must have had quite a kick.   
  
"Where's your room, anyway?" I ask, watching him stare at the doorknob like it's the eighth wonder of the world.   
  
"Two floors up," he says, and lunges for the door.   
  
"You're going to need some help," I say, making a move to help him out the door.   
  
"I'm fine," he says, and shrugs my hand off his shoulder. He opens the door and begins his journey down the hallway to the stairwell.   
  
"Suit yourself!" I call after him. He waves clumsily without turning around.   
  
I give him ten minutes, then proceed in his direction down the hallway. I open the door to the stairwell, and he's sitting on the third step, laughing.   
  
"You were right," he says, looking up at me. "I probably do need some help."   
  
I pull him off the steps and slide my arm around his shoulders.   
  
"Just put one foot in front of the other, old man," I say. He trips over me a couple times but I manage to get him to his room and in the door with little trouble.   
  
"So I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow, then," I say, trying not to laugh at he attempts to untie his shoes.   
  
"Yeah, I'll be the one in the apron," he says without looking up. I watch as he gives up on his shoes and flops back onto the bed. I start to say something, but I can tell he's already passed out.   
  
***************************************************************   
  
  
My alarm woke me up this morning at five-thirty. I nearly fell out of bed trying to shut it off. I've never had a hangover this bad. Granted, I really haven't been drinking that long. I've never finished a bottle before, but I polished one off last night. I'm not really sure why. I was actually having quite a good time with the Mouth.   
  
Maybe I drank so I wouldn't have to make conversation. Not that it mattered, because the Mouth more than made up for my lack of conversational skill. The Mouth's name is Josiah Bartlet, he's fifteen years old, he's from Manchester, New Hampshire, and he loves Ray Bradbury.   
  
It's really quite possible that we were twins separated at birth.   
  
And, you know, look nothing alike. But I digress.   
  
I don't really like to talk about myself. I don't see what the big deal is. But the Mouth seemed to get that. He didn't ask me too many questions. He just sat there and talked about Ray Bradbury while I kicked his ass at chess. Four times.   
  
He talked about segregation, though. And I'm pretty sure he got into a lot of trouble with his father for doctoring papers en route to the post office. But this kid didn't seem to mind. He seems to really want these unbearable wrongs righted in our country.   
  
The Mouth quoted Gandhi last night, and I really don't even think he realized he was doing it. He's probably said it so many times it doesn't register that he's quoting someone.   
  
When I got on the bus in downtown Chicago, I expected to come out to California and be laughed at. I promised myself I'd say what I meant, no matter what. Then I meet this kid. This kid who's read Gandhi and believes in things that I don't even think our leaders believe in anymore.   
  
This kid wants to know things about me. He's interested in who I am. Where I come from. Why I believe what I believe. I've never met anyone like that. Even my poor sisters get tired of me preaching to them about the downfall of the country. Elizabeth calls me the 'old man.' But I really feel like one sometimes. I bet she wouldn't call me that anymore if she knew.   
  
*****************************************************************   
  
  
"So, Leopold isn't an Irish name," I say as we walk to our morning session after breakfast.   
  
"Did you just realize that?"   
  
"No, I'm just wondering how you ended up-"   
  
"My mom first heard it in a movie while she was pregnant with me. I'm named after Leopold Stokowski," Leo cuts me off. I can't help but smile.   
  
"You're named after the conductor of the Philadelphia Symphony Orchestra?"   
  
"She saw him in Fantasia. It was a cartoon," Leo says, sounding slightly irritated.   
  
"I know what Fantasia is," I shoot back. "So, Leopold Stokowski McGarry?"   
  
"Leopold Thomas McGarry. My name itself is a melting pot," he rolls his eyes at me.   
  
"You know who I'm named after?"   
  
"One of the signers of the Declaration of Independence."   
  
I think I'm gaping at him. It's not surprising when someone at home recognizes my family name, but some smart-ass kid from Chicago? It's uncanny. He's laughing at me.   
  
"So where's Thomas come from?"   
  
"My dad," he says. I see something pass over his face, but I'm not sure what emotion it was. I let is pass.   
  
"It's a good name," I say.   
  
"Yeah," he agrees. "So what are we discussing in this morning's session?"   
  
I grin.   
  
"The economy."   
  
  
TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: This is part two of a series. I'm not sure how long this series will be, but I'll keep it coming.   
Feedback: Is always appreciated. :)   
  
  
  
So, Jed Bartlet pretty much lectured through the entire morning session. And, to tell you the truth, I'm not one hundred percent sure he wasn't just making those numbers up. But I digress. Making the numbers up or not, he was still pretty damn impressive in there this morning. Most of the other guys probably had no clue what he was talking about. I was barely able to follow him there for a few minutes.   
  
Anyway, he's eating lunch with his dad this afternoon, and I'm making tater tots in my undershirt because once again, I didn't have time to change out of my only dress shirt and tie.   
  
I can't help but be slightly jealous that he's got a dad to eat lunch with. Jed doesn't seem to like him too much. I didn't like my dad too much either, but now that he's not around, I do miss him. I don't miss taking all the beatings so he wouldn't hit Josie, and I don't miss listening to my mother cry herself to sleep every night, but there's something kind of sad about not having a dad around.   
  
At least when Dad was around, I could make up stories. 'Yeah, Dad and I went fishing this weekend,' or 'Yeah, Dad took me to a football game.' None of the guys at school knew that Dad was usually drunk in the living room for the better part of the day. They knew he was a drunk, but that wasn't exactly abnormal in our little Quincy neighborhood. It was abnormal if your dad wasn't down in the pub with everyone else's dad after work. But when your dad is dead, there's no room for embellishment.   
  
Tater tots weren't popular at lunch today. I don't think I would have eaten them either. Nothing in this cafeteria has been exactly appetizing, but I really can't complain. I dump what's left of them into the garbage, grab my shirt and tie, and head out the back door for a little fresh air before our afternoon session.   
  
It's warm outside, surprisingly enough, since this is California in August. I never do adjust to the weather in a new place. I've got Boston in my blood. I fold my dress shirt up and sit down against a tree in front of the lecture hall. I get a couple of approving looks from some co-eds. Probably just because I'm sitting down though. Working construction all summer got me well tanned, muscular arms, but I didn't grow an inch. If I were standing up, they wouldn't have given me a second glance.   
  
Where the hell is Jed, anyway?   
  
********************************************************************   
  
  
Leo looks like he's about to doze off as I approach from my lunch with Dad, or as I like to call him, Jackass. Jonathan has never understood why Dad and I seem to fight all the time, but then again Jonathan is everything Dad could ask for in a son. He's tall like Dad, he's an average student like Dad was, and he plays football, like Dad did. In addition, Jonathan decided not to be confirmed into the Catholic Church, and Dad wasn't too upset about that either.   
  
Jonathan calls me a Mama's Boy. And after today's particular argument, I don't really mind it so much anymore. Sometimes I wonder how my mom was ever able to teach me anything with all the negative brain washing that my dad tries on me. 'You're at this school because I'm the headmaster, and you're Catholic because your mother is.' How many times have I heard that line?   
  
I've decided to go as far away to college as I can stand. As long as I can get myself there, I really won't need to worry about coming back.   
  
I look down to see Leo watching me.   
  
"How was lunch?" he asks.   
  
"I wouldn't call it lunch so much as I'd call it a battle of wits," I smirk. "A battle for which my father was grossly unprepared."   
  
Leo laughs.   
  
"How was kitchen duty?"   
  
"Greasy," he says, standing up and slipping back into his dress shirt. I reach up to straighten my tie as we walk over to the lecture hall. "What were you two battling over?"   
  
"He's going to move to strike the segregation debate from the docket," I sigh. "He says there will be fist fights and general unrest."   
  
"He should have seen you in action yesterday," Leo chuckles.   
  
  
"There has to be unrest or nothing is ever going to change, Leo," I say. He nods. "This debate is going to happen whether it's on the docket or not."   
  
"I'm with you," Leo says. I open the door to the lecture hall and he disappears into the crowd of other guys.   
  
  
***********************************************************   
  
  
The rest of the day passed pretty slowly. Missouri talked about funding for roads and highways all afternoon. I was bored to tears, but I glance over at Jed, and he's sitting there listening attentively and taking notes. Taking notes! This kid is a geek.   
  
Dinner duty passed quickly because I only had to set out the desserts. I ate dinner with the guys from Massachusetts. Jed disappeared right after afternoon session ended and I haven't seen him since. Maybe he tried to eat dinner with his dad and talk some sense into him.   
  
One of the Massachusetts guys was excited about segregation debate, and the other guy didn't object to it, but didn't openly voice his support. It's a sticky topic, and there are going to be words flying in that lecture hall. I've decided to bring the topic up, because Jed's gonna get his ass kicked enough just for being seen with me after this debate starts. He doesn't need the added bonus of being the scapegoat for the issue.   
  
After dinner we had the option of going to hear a Congressman from Georgia speak, but I decided to skip. It's all rhetoric, and the man is a racist. I wasn't much in the mood for racist rhetoric, so I returned to my room and picked up my well-worn copy of The Works of John Locke. I must have dozed off because Jed scared the hell out of me when he burst into the room.   
  
"Leo! Get up!"   
  
I had to peel my face off the book I'd fallen asleep on.   
  
"Where have you been all day?"   
  
"I went to the library," Jed began, pacing the room. "I've decided to bring up voting rights in tomorrow morning's session. Are you ready to get beat up?"   
  
"When am I not?" I smile.   
  
************************************************************   
  
  
Leo looks genuinely confused as I burst into his room. He sits up and looks at me, a nice imprint of the margin of his book down the middle of his face. If he had more hair than that crew cut I'm sure it would be sticking up in every direction.   
  
"Poll taxes, literacy tests," I say, pacing the floor. "It'll set everything off."   
  
"How are you just going to bring this up?" Leo says, stretching.   
  
"We're discussing making the legal voting age eighteen tomorrow morning," I say. "But do we really need to be discussing the age when millions of people in this country are denied the vote based on the color of their skin?"   
  
"And I assume you'll just blurt that out as soon as you get the floor," Leo says. "Which, might I add, is going to be difficult for you to regain after this morning's economic lecture. The guy sitting next to me will filibuster before he lets you have the floor again."   
  
"So, you yield the floor to me. Shouldn't be hard to do at all," Jed says, sticking a cigarette into his mouth.   
  
"Why don't you let me bring it up? Alabama is already angry with you. One of them is going to jump on you when I'm not there to piss them off," Leo says. He looks concerned.   
  
"You think I'm afraid of them?"   
  
"No, but I think you should be. People have been strung up for far less than voicing their opinions on segregation," Leo says.   
  
He's right. I'm sure plenty of the guys from the southern states have family members that own their own white sheets. I bet some of the delegates themselves are actually Klan members. They hate us enough because we're Catholic, but they'll hate us three times as much when we take the side of the blacks in America.   
  
"I know, Leo. I know," I sigh, exhaling a huge puff of smoke. I wonder if we're supposed to be smoking in the dorms.   
  
"Have you ever seen a lynch mob in action, Jed?" Leo is sitting up now, running his hand over the closely cut hair on his head.   
  
I shake my head in response.   
  
"One of my mom's sisters lives in Atlanta. We went down a couple summers ago to visit. My dad and my uncle heard about a Klan rally somewhere outside of town, and went to watch. They didn't actually participate in the rally, obviously, because they're both Catholic. But they were both despicably racist. I followed them, because I didn't have much else to do. All my cousins are girls, and none of them play chess," Leo pauses and I chuckle at the notion of him trying to teach a six year old girl how to play chess. "Apparently a black family from Maryland had moved into a farmhouse outside the city because the father had gotten a construction job in Fulton County. The construction company he was working for had gotten a couple of jobs over a white construction company, and the Klan was plenty mad about it. But what set everything off was that the mother of the family was in the market and bought the last decent cantaloupe or something. One of the Klansmen's wives was in line for the fruit and was stuck with a bruised cantaloupe. So, she went home and complained to her husband, who found it despicable that this black woman had been shopping at the same roadside market. So, this rally pretty much fired everyone up, and they walked three miles in the dark with torches to this little farmhouse out in the county. My father and uncle followed behind them, in the shadows, and I followed behind them."   
  
Leo looks like he might throw up. He stops for a minute and takes a deep breath.   
  
"They get to this little farmhouse and set up the traditional burning cross in the front yard. Then they yell and scream for the father to come out. Finally, someone broke free from the group and kicked the front door in. They dragged the father out of his house and into the yard, where they spit on him and screamed at him for fifteen minutes. Then someone kicked him, and he just sat there. He just sat there on his knees in the yard and took it. That made them even more angry, and more people started kicking and hitting. My father and uncle got so worked up that they eventually rushed into the mob and joined in. Then I watched as my uncle produced a rope. My father helped hold the man down while several Klansmen threw the rope over the branch of a tree and tied the noose. They slipped the noose over the man's head and strung him up. While he was hanging there, they continued spitting at him and screaming obscenities," Leo pauses. All the color has drained from his face.   
  
"And that poor man just hung there and took it until he finally died. His wife, his son and his two daughters were forced to watch their husband and father treated like an animal. I'll never forget the look on the son's face," Leo said, wiping his eyes. "It was like he'd seen evil in its purest form. And I think he had."   
  
I'm stunned. Leo just sits there and stares at me.   
  
"I ran away as the crowd was dispersing. When I got back to my aunt's house I spent twenty minutes throwing up in the backyard before I could go into the house. My mom and my aunt were sitting at the kitchen table when I walked in. I walked over, put my head in her lap, and cried myself to sleep. I've never been able to fathom what produces such hatred in people," he finishes. I don't know what to say to him.   
  
"Leo," I say after a few minutes of silence. He looks up at me.   
  
"My father shot himself in the head last winter, Jed. He and my mother had been arguing because I wrote a paper for school about George Washington Carver. He was drunk, of course, and looking for a reason to argue. He pulled my paper off the refrigerator and asked my mother how she could let her son write about such worthless people," Leo says, and I feel like he's staring right through me. "Mom got so angry that she called him a racist. She asked how he expected to be able to raise children with the prejudices he was harboring. Usually, a remark like that would get her slapped. But Dad just stood there for a minute and then left the house. I watched him go out to the garage from my bedroom window upstairs. I figured he would just go out there and drink himself stupid for the rest of the night. I turned away from the window and went to sit down at my desk, and I heard the gun go off."   
  
Leo gets up and walks over to his small suitcase to pull out a bottle of something. He takes a long swallow and then looks at me again.   
  
"I never even cried over it. He'd been dead to me since that summer in Atlanta," he says. I'm stunned. I don't know what to say to him.   
  
"Jed, this is an issue that isn't going to go away. If I can just cast a little bit of doubt into one of those guys' minds, the ones from Georgia and Alabama, then getting beat up will be worth it."   
  
"Leo-"   
  
"I'm gonna take a nap, Jed. You wanna come up later and play chess?"   
  
"Yeah," I say. I wish there were something I could say to him. But I'm completely at a loss for words. I watch him as he flops back onto the bed. He gives me a half-hearted smile and I turn around and leave him to his thoughts.   
  
***********************************************************   
  
  
I must have just scared the hell out of Jed. I don't think I'll forget the look of absolute horror on his face when I told him about the lynch mob. I don't think he's absolutely sure about what he's getting into. I just want him to know that once we take a stand on this, it's not going to be an easy three weeks for him. It might even be scary at times. I don't think he's gonna change his mind, not in the slightest. I just want him to know. These people will be out to stop us.   
  
I'm so tired right now I can barely even think, and yet I can't fall asleep. I just lay here and stare at the ceiling. I wonder if there's anyone else in the world like me. Someone who'd rather read John Locke than shoot basketball. Someone who is kept awake by injustice in the world night after night. Someone who feels twenty years older than his actual age. I never thought I'd meet someone else like me.   
  
But I just watched him walk out the door.   
  
***************************************************************   
  
  
I think Leo's sister may have a point with whole 'old man' thing. Leo is more of an adult than my father is. He talks like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders; like he's the only person that wants to change anything. We both know that's not true; but he's got this stuck in his teeth.   
  
I'm going to go up and play chess after a while; and he'll have switched out of political mode and not want to talk. But I think he should. He's obviously got all this pent up anger and disappointment and he's never been able to talk about it with anyone before. I don't think I'll let him drink too much tonight either.   
  
The look on his face when he had to walk over to his suitcase and pull out the bottle of liquor was something like I've never seen before. It was a mixture of need and self-loathing. He knows he needs that alcohol, but he hates that he needs it at the same time. He hates that he's like his father in that respect.   
  
I've never even tried alcohol aside from communion wine. My parents don't drink, and as far as I know Jonathan hasn't messed around with it. And here's someone who is only a year older than me, and he's already a slave to this stuff.   
  
I've known this guy for two days and I feel like I've known him since I was born. Mom always talks about how it should feel that way when I meet the girl that I'm going to marry. I ask her if she felt that way when she met Dad. She's never answered me, but I can probably guess what the answer is. Girls can wait for now; most of them can't stand the sight of me, and the ones that can don't go out of their way to make conversation.   
  
Right now I'm going to go upstairs and play chess with Leo. And I'm going to try and be his friend, if he'll let me. Because Lord knows we both need a friend right now.   
  
TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: More adventures of Leo and Jed. I'm posting as fast as I can.   
Feedback: is divine.   
  
  
  
  
Jed walks into my room at half past nine with a six pack of Coca-Cola and his chess set. The dorm is pretty quiet; lights out is at ten.   
  
"So, last night, when you beat me at chess - "   
  
"Four times," I interrupt.   
  
"Four times," he continues. "I was just being nice, because I wanted you to like me. I didn't want you to think I'd be kicking your ass at chess all the time."   
  
"I could have told you that from looking at you," I say, grinning at him.   
  
"I'm just going to ignore that comment and proceed with the ass-kicking," Jed says, and hands me a soda.   
  
An hour later, I've beaten him twice and he's almost sulking. I'm doing my best to keep a straight face as I ask if he wants to play again.   
  
"No, no. I've had enough," Jed mumbles. I don't think he's ever lost at chess until now.   
  
"Okay, well, what else do you have planned for the evening?" I ask.   
  
"We could go see a movie," Jed perks up.   
  
"Yeah, and we could get thrown out of Nation for leaving the dorm after lights out," I retort.   
  
"Oh, come on, Leo. You like Hitchcock?"   
  
"Of course. But it's late for a movie," I answer. But I can tell Jed won't be turned down.   
  
"There's a double feature in town," Jed smiles. "Rear Window and Dial M for Murder. If we leave now we'll make it in time for Dial M."   
  
I hesitate. I don't have any pocket money.   
  
"Leo, come on! When's the last time you went to the movies?"   
  
"Jed," I start. A look of realization passes over his face.   
  
"Oh, come on. It'll be my treat," he says. "If you're good I'll buy you some Milk Duds."   
  
"Shut up," I say, and grab my shoes.   
  
*********************************************************   
  
  
It's a nice night out, and I tell Leo that as we walk through town to the movie theatre. There aren't too many people out, and I really hope that Nation staff decided to stay in for the night, because I don't think Leo would ever forgive me if we got kicked out.   
  
"So, what do you do in Manchester, anyway? From my understanding there's really not a lot that goes on," Leo says.   
  
"Well, last week when I was home my brother locked me in a steamer trunk," I say.   
  
"You have a brother?"   
  
"Yeah, an older one. Jonathan Paul Bartlet, junior. He hates me, and I don't really care for him either," I say. "You have a sister, right?"   
  
"I have two younger sisters," Leo says, and his face lights up as he talks. "Josephine and Elizabeth. Elizabeth just turned eight, and Josie is thirteen. They're a handful, and I'm sure they think I don't like them. But I actually enjoy being their big brother. At least for now, anyway. As soon as they start dating, I'm sure things will change."   
  
"My brother is going to be a senior this year, and he dates plenty. The more he dates, the more time I have in the house without him," I say.   
  
"I don't really like being in the house by myself," Leo says. "We're living with my mom's older sister right now. Mom works like 28 hours a day at a shoe factory, and I miss her. Aunt Frances is something of an old maid I guess, so she's not the most upbeat person in Chicago. I like having Josie and Elizabeth around, even if all they do is annoy me."   
  
"Do you miss Boston?"   
  
"I miss Boston a lot. I had friends there. I miss my old school. We had a debate team at my old school, you know. I would have been captain this fall. People lived in fear of me," Leo says.   
  
"We have debate at our school," I say. "Though we really don't debate anything exciting. The headmaster at our school is a jackass."   
  
"You go to private school?"   
  
"Yeah. My dad is the headmaster," I sigh. Leo laughs.   
  
"You just can't escape, can you?"   
  
Apparently not. I just watched my dad and some other people walk out of a restaurant. I grab Leo's t-shirt and pull him in between two stores.   
  
"Jed, what the-"   
  
"Shh! I just saw my dad walk out of that restaurant. If he sees me I'll be on a plane back to Manchester by dawn," I whisper.   
  
The group of men walks past us and continues down the street, back towards campus. I exhale the breath I've been holding. I crane my neck to make sure my father was with them. I can just barely make out his tall figure as the group continues down the street.   
  
"And who's bright idea was it to come out for a movie?" Leo smirks at me.   
  
"Shut up," I say, and step back out onto the street.   
  
********************************************************   
  
  
It's been so long since I've been in a movie theatre. In fact, I haven't been to one since before my dad died. Jed pays for my ticket and we climb the stairs to sit in the balcony.   
  
"This is a nice place," I whisper.   
  
"Yeah," he agrees as we sit down at the back of the balcony.   
  
I think Jed is getting a kick out me watching this movie. It's obvious he's seen it more than once. He seems like the type that would blow all his allowance seeing the same movie twelve times.   
  
He's laughing at me now. I literally gasp out loud as Grace Kelly tries to fight off her assailant. Quite the intense scene.   
  
There aren't many people in theatre. I guess it's because it's a weeknight. It's also pretty late. I glance around the balcony and notice we're the only white people up here.   
  
"Jed," I whisper.   
  
"Shh," he whispers back.   
  
"Jed, is this balcony for blacks only?"   
  
"Of course it is, you idiot. Why do you think I sat up here?"   
  
"Don't you think they don't want us up here?"   
  
"No, Leo. I think they think that we're demonstrating that we don't believe separate but equal is equal at all. And do you really think anyone is paying attention to two white boys at midnight on Tuesday? They're watching the movie. Watch the movie, Leo," he says.   
  
Jed Bartlet is a cocky bastard. He really is.   
  
  
The movie ends and we sit in the balcony until it clears out. No one gives us so much as a second glance. Jed gets up, and I follow him out of the theatre.   
  
"See, Leo? You're still in one piece," he laughs as we start our walk back to campus.   
  
"There's something wrong with you, my friend," I say. Jed smiles.   
  
"So I've heard," he replies.   
  
*********************************************************   
  
  
  
Leo and I manage to sneak back into the dorm with few problems. I knocked over a trashcan and he punched me in the arm. Then he dropped his keys as we were furtively making our way up the stairs; effectively blowing our, you know, secret agent thing.   
  
"Nice going," I say as we enter my room.   
  
"You're no James Bond yourself," Leo replies and plops down onto my bed.   
  
"James Bond? You've actually read Ian Fleming? I'm impressed, Leo. I don't picture you venturing too far away from your textbooks," I smirk.   
  
"Well, I have. I also know how to throw a baseball and a football, but don't die of shock on me over there," Leo smirks.   
  
"I bet your sisters kick your ass at football," I smile.   
  
"Josie really is a force to be reckoned with. None of the boys in the neighborhood ever give her any crap."   
  
"And that's certainly not because they're afraid of her older brother," I say, trying to maintain a straight face.   
  
"I've been in my share of fights, you geek. I can hold my own," Leo says.   
  
"It's the Irish blood," I say, laughing.   
  
"Let's go, pretty boy. I'll take you right now," he says, getting off my bed.   
  
Before I can make a witty comeback, he's wrestled me to the floor and is holding me in a headlock.   
  
"Point taken," I whimper.   
  
**************************************************   
  
  
I finally turned in last night around two. Breakfast passed slowly; I was stuck in the serving line again. Jed made a point of avoiding the oatmeal I so graciously scraped out of the pan for him. He ended up wearing some of it.   
  
Anyway, we're on our morning break after Missouri finally concluded his sermon on highway funding. Jed is bouncing off the walls next to me. We're up next.   
  
The delegates from California have the floor to bring up the voting age. Both of them are going to be seniors in high school this fall, and I guess they're pretty anxious about turning eighteen and being able to vote. The next presidential election isn't for three years, but I guess they're pretty antsy about the gubernatorial race or something. Or maybe this was the only thing they could come up with to bring to the floor.   
  
They ramble on and on. Don't get me wrong; I think that this is a very important topic and should definitely be discussed. However, this topic is going to segue into something way more controversial in about thirty seconds.   
  
I raise my hand to speak and the president recognizes the delegate from Illinois. I look at Jed, who is expecting me to yield the floor to him. I just can't do it. He's gonna get enough crap for being seen with me the next couple of days. And the last thing he needs is to get in more trouble with his father right now. Jed looks at me expectantly, and I drop my eyes and take a deep breath.   
  
"I agree with the delegate from California," I say, and glance around the room. "However, I don't think new groups deserve the right to vote until we make sure that everyone who actually is enfranchised right now gets their turn in line at the ballot box." I can't pause for fear of losing the floor.   
  
"Blacks in this country are being denied the right to vote. Things like poll taxes and literacy tests are standing in their way. Some poor white country bumpkin walks into a poll in Arkansas and they hand him the Bible to read. A black man walks in, and they'll hand him Chaucer or Shakespeare. This practice is disgusting, just like the entire separate but equal policy, and if this country really wants to make a difference in the world, it needs to start at home," I take a quick breath which catches in my throat. I have to cough, and consequently lose the floor to Alabama.   
  
"You're saying we should let people who can't read vote anyway? Just because they're black? That doesn't sound equal to me either, Mr. Delegate," Alabama is staring me down. Screw Roberts Rules.   
  
"But it's equal to give him a different literacy test? The Bible is the most commonly read book on the planet. Many people learn to read by the Bible. And if you can't read, most people commit passages of the Bible to memory. A white man could easily walk in and recite the twenty-third Psalm while looking at the first book of John and poll officials would let him walk right on by," I say. The president notifies me that I'm out of order. I politely ignore him. "How many black men do you know that read Chaucer on a regular basis?"   
  
"I don't know any black men, Mr. Delegate," Alabama snaps back.   
  
"Do you know why blacks can't read Chaucer? Because they can't go to school. Because if they actually go to school, the standards are so much lower than white education that it's barely an education at all. How is separate but equal right when things aren't even equal to begin with?" The president notifies me that I'm out of order again.   
  
"Separate is the only thing that matters," Alabama says. Jed stands up. God help us.   
  
"These people were born in the United States, were they not?" Jed asks, making his way to the aisle of the lecture hall. "And you were born in the United States, were you not?"   
  
"It doesn't matter where you were born, it's where you come from that matters," Alabama says.   
  
"So you're saying because his ancestors come from Ireland, that makes him less American?" Jed asks, pointing up at me.   
  
"No," Alabama says, and he's moved out into the aisle too.   
  
"Then what are you saying?"   
  
"I'm saying that these people are dirty, they're stupid, and they don't deserve the right to vote. I'm saying we should put them on a boat and send them all back to the jungle," Alabama spits. And before I can do anything, Jed has taken a swing at him.   
  
Jesus.   
  
Alabama swings back, and catches Jed under the chin. He must have bitten his tongue, because he's bleeding all over the place. He throws another punch and bloodies Alabama's nose. The whole room has erupted into screaming and I'm running down the steps to push them apart.   
  
Though before I can get all the way down the stairs, someone has tripped me and I'm falling. I catch myself with my left arm, which makes an interesting cracking sound as I land. A wave of nausea washes over me as I stand up and turn to look at the guy who tripped me. A delegate from Arkansas, who promptly takes a swing at me. I duck, and throw him off his balance. I'm pushing my way through the circle of people surrounding Jed and Alabama, but I can't push through. My left arm really hurts now, right above the wrist, and I think I might have broken it. Before I know what's happening, I hear an adult male shouting and breaking up the fight.   
  
As the crowd breaks up, I can finally see Jed. His hair is disheveled, his eye is swollen, and he's bleeding all over his dress clothes. It would be almost humorous if he didn't look as scared as he does. And then I realize why.   
  
The adult male is Jed's dad, and we're in major trouble.   
  
************************************************   
  
  
My heart is in my throat as I realize the person who has just pulled me off that racist bastard is my father. This is the same father who didn't want segregation discussed for this very reason. I look at him out of my right eye, the one not swollen shut, and he looks angrier than I've ever seen him. Angrier than the time I tied Jon's shoelaces together during chapel and he tripped as he got up, knocking over the minister, who happens to be eighty-three years old.   
  
I can't look at Dad, and I find myself frantically scanning the crowd for Leo. I finally see him, and I assume the look on his face mirrors my own. He's holding on to his left wrist like he's hurt himself. I hope Dad puts the reaming that's about to ensue on hold long enough for Leo to go the emergency room.   
  
"Morning session is over," Dad says, his tone positively icy. "Lunch will be served at normal time."   
  
The room empties out in a hurry, Alabama shooting me threatening glares as he picks up his notebook and walks away. Another adult is in the room now, and stops him before he can get out of the room. He won't be back for afternoon session.   
  
Though, from the look on Dad's face, we won't be either. He looks at me again and I want to disappear into the floor.   
  
"I'm going to call the damn paramedics. Don't even think about moving, Josiah," he says, and walks out of the room. As soon as he's out of earshot I get up and rush over to Leo.   
  
"What the hell were you thinking?" Leo says. "That's not the way to get your point across, Jed."   
  
"Neither is insulting people, Leo. I can't believe what he said, in front of all these people," I manage, my mouth still bleeding.   
  
"A lot of these people share his opinion. And there's gonna be no debate now, because your dad is going to send us home."   
  
"He won't send us home, Leo. We're both gonna be in the hospital for the next two weeks anyway," I say, trying to get him to laugh.   
  
"Jed, I think I'm going to be sick," he says, sitting down on the steps. I scramble for a trashcan and make it back just as Leo begins to empty the contents of his stomach. I hold the can in front of him and put my hand on his shoulder. Luckily he didn't eat much breakfast.   
  
"I think I broke my arm," he mumbles into the can, and he sounds much more like a sixteen-year-old kid than I've heard since I met him.   
  
"It's okay. Dad's calling the paramedics. We'll get you fixed up in no time," I say, trying to be reassuring. I feel like such an idiot. I've ruined our master plan. Our great debate is gone now, and we're both going home.   
  
I feel like I've known him forever, but at the same time I feel like I'm just starting to get through the Leo McGarry persona and seeing the real person. Dad can't send us home now.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: More Leo, more Jed. Next part of story will skip ahead to the summer after high school graduation.   
Feedback: As always, is divine.   
  
Strangely enough, Jed's dad lets him ride in the ambulance with me. I try not to act too relieved as I see his face peer in through the open door, and then climb in beside me. The paramedic mumbles something to me about morphine, and I wince as I feel a needle in my arm.   
  
Jed looks like hell. His eye is completely swollen shut now, but the other is watching me closely. I think he expects me to yell at him for what happened in the lecture hall. I think he thinks I'm going to be angry with him.   
  
The truth is, I wanted to hit Alabama too. I don't know how it's possible for people to hate that much. I really, really don't. But I know the minute I let myself go and resort to violence; I've sunk to his level. Jed knows that too. He just temporarily forgot this afternoon.   
  
"I'm not mad at you, Jed," I say, surprised at how difficult it is to speak. The drugs are kicking in and I'll be out of it soon.   
  
"I'm so sorry, Leo," he says, and I think he might cry. "I've ruined our whole debate. I've ruined everything."   
  
"Jed," I'm really stumbling over words now. I want to tell him it's okay, that I forgive him. But my body is giving into the morphine, and the last thing I see is Jed's haunted face before I black out.   
  
  
  
I wake up in what I assume is a recovery room. The room is quiet, and as my vision clears I see Jed asleep upright in a chair in the corner. He's got a butterfly stitch over his left eye and I guess his dad brought him a change of clothes. My arm is in a cast now and I'm still pretty groggy. I try to sit up and flop back down onto the bed. This wakes Jed from his light sleep.   
  
"Hey," I mumble.   
  
"How are you feeling?"   
  
"I'm not feeling much of anything right now," I say. I can still feel the drugs in my system.   
  
"They just gave me some aspirin and stitched my eye up," Jed sighs. "We must look like we've been in a riot or something."   
  
"No kidding," I say. I try and wiggle my fingers around in the cast without much success. Just as Jed is moving his chair closer to the bed, the door to the room opens. It's Jed's dad.   
  
"Jed, could you please wait outside?" He seems amazingly calm. I thought he'd be screaming at us. I guess they might throw him out of the hospital though.   
  
"Yes, sir," Jed says, and gives me a reassuring look. I nod at him and he exits the room.   
  
Mr. Bartlet stands perfectly still as Jed leaves the room. When the door clicks shut, he makes his way over and sits in the chair next to my bed.   
  
"Mr. Bartlet," I start. He looks over at me. "This was all my fault. Please don't punish Jed for being associated with me. I brought up the discussion on the floor and the fight that followed was my fault."   
  
"Mr. McGarry, I appreciate you standing up for my son. But I've known him quite a bit longer than you have, and this has his name written all over it. You're both equally guilty, and you know what Nation policy says about fighting," he sighs. He seems resigned to the fact that his son is a complete screw-up.   
  
"Please don't send Jed home, sir. He's the smartest kid in the delegation," I say, close to begging. I don't want to make things worse between Jed and his father.   
  
"I wouldn't go that far, Mr. McGarry. The stunt he just pulled should be testimony to Jed's intelligence level," he smirks. I grit my teeth not to retort. "I have to send you both home, along with the boy you were fighting with. It's strictly policy, Mr. McGarry. Don't think I'm doing this because I'm anti-Catholic," his father says, standing up. "You'll have to be out of the dorm by noon tomorrow."   
  
"I didn't think you were doing this because you were anti-Catholic, sir," I say, and I really hadn't until he mentioned something about it. "I'm sorry this all happened, sir."   
  
"I am too, Mr. McGarry," Mr. Bartlet says as he gets ready to open the door.   
  
"Mr. Bartlet?"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"What do you think about segregation, sir?"   
  
"I don't think about it at all, Mr. McGarry," he says, and leaves the room. I drop my head back onto my pillow and the tears welling in my eyes begin to spill out. Several minutes later, Jed reenters the room. He looks completely dejected.   
  
"So we're going home then," I say quietly.   
  
"Looks that way," Jed says, reclaiming his spot in the chair next to my bed.   
  
  
The room is silent for a while, and then the air conditioner kicks in. Jed and I just kind of stare at each other, not really knowing what to say. It's not an uncomfortable silence. We can really converse without saying anything at all, which is pretty scary and pretty amazing at the same time. I feel myself begin to drift off to sleep again, lulled by the hum of the air conditioner.   
  
  
  
When I wake, I'm alone in the room. My first instinct is to panic. Jed's father has sent him home and I didn't even get a chance to tell him goodbye. Most of the drugs have worn off now, and my vision is clear. The clock on the wall says it's just now dinnertime, which amazes me. I feel like I've been in this room for days. I sit up slowly, trying to get used to having only one arm to work with. It's not too hard, and I'm up and stretching my legs when Jed enters the room.   
  
"Hey," he says, smiling. "How would you like to come to New Hampshire for a couple weeks?"   
  
"Get real, Jed. I can't pay for a plane ticket. Besides, if I'm not going to be here I might as well go home and work for a couple more weeks before school starts. We could use the money at home," I sigh, leaning against the bed. I realize the room is cold and then realize I'm standing in the middle of the room in my boxer shorts.   
  
"Leo, my mom has invited you out to the farm. She wants to meet you," Jed smiles. "My dad doesn't have to know anything about it. You can come out and visit for a couple weeks and we'll put you on a plane back to Chicago before Dad gets home from California. Come on, Leo! It'll be so much fun!"   
  
"I'll have to call home and find out what my mom thinks," I say, trying not to smile. "I can't just go wandering the continent without her knowing."   
  
"Well, call her!"   
  
"Well, I would, but-"   
  
"But what?!"   
  
"But I'm not wearing any pants, Jed! I can't walk to the payphone in my underwear," I say. Jed grabs my khakis out of the closet and throws them at me.   
  
"Let's go!"   
  
****************************************************   
  
  
My father asks me to leave the room and I look over at Leo. He looks so alone and helpless lying in the hospital bed, his arm in a sling. I can't do anything but comply without risking an outburst from my jackass of a father. I try to reassure Leo with my face, but I don't know if he catches it as I leave the room.   
  
I walk slowly down the hallway, past a couple nurses who give me sympathetic looks. I guess I do look pretty roughed up. Of course, I deserved it. I can't believe I hit that guy. It had happened before I even had time to think about it. As soon as my fist connected with his head, I knew I'd done the completely wrong thing.   
  
I don't know how Leo hasn't completely screamed at me yet. He just gives me the 'I understand' face and doesn't say anything. Is he really not mad at me? How is that possible? I ruined his entire summer. He worked so hard to be able to come out here, and now he's going to be sent home.   
  
I plop down into a chair in the waiting room and reach for my cigarettes. I pull the foil packaging out of my pocket to discover the very last of my precious Marlboros. I hold it in my hand and contemplate it for a while. Just as I'm looking for matches, my father appears in the hall. I quickly spit the cigarette out of my mouth and do my best to look innocent.   
  
"You'll all be gone by noon tomorrow, Josiah," my father says, sitting down in a chair across the room. "I'm sorry it had to end this way, but I tried to warn you about this debate."   
  
"Yes, sir," I say. I feel too defeated to even put up a good argument right now. I think this catches Dad off guard.   
  
"You must have that Chicago kid pretty well snowed," my dad says, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "He stood up for you pretty impressively, Jed. It amazes me that anyone would try to take blame for something that was so obviously your fault."   
  
I sigh, but internally smile at Leo. He didn't yield the floor to me on purpose. He's trying to keep me out of trouble. I think we're starting to find that when we're together, trouble seems to follow. Bring the trouble. With Leo around, I think we could conquer anything.   
  
"He's a good guy, sir," I say. "You know I don't have any friends at home that are Catholic."   
  
"You don't have many friends at home, period. There's a reason for that, Jed," my father says. "You're completely disagreeable and you're so arrogant there's barely room for me in this room."   
  
"Yes, sir," I say, looking at my shoes.   
  
"Anyway. I'm just saying that this friend of yours is someone you should probably keep around, because I know you'll probably be finding more trouble for yourself sooner than later."   
  
"Yes, sir," I smile at my father. He doesn't smile back. Then again, he never does.   
  
"You can take a cab to the airport. Call your mother. I'm sure she'll have Jonathan or someone pick you up when you get into New Hampshire. And consider yourself restricted to the farm when you get home," Dad says, rising from his seat.   
  
"Yes, sir."   
  
"I can't believe you, Jed. I bring you all the way out here, and you repay me by embarrassing me in front of my colleagues. I'm so disappointed. Although, I guess I'm not really surprised by your stunts anymore. See you in a couple weeks, " my father mumbles as he leaves me alone in the waiting room.   
  
"Yes, sir," I say in return. I'm sure he didn't hear me, but I don't really care that much. I can't believe I'm going home tomorrow. I had so many things planned to do while I was out here. So many things I wanted to discuss.   
  
And yet the thing that bothers me most about leaving is the fact that Leo and I are going to be separated. I've only known him a couple days and he's already become the best friend I've ever had. He sees past all the pomp and arrogance. He sees past my faults. No one has ever done that before, except Mom. No one.   
  
I walk back to the room and say a couple things to Leo. He looks like he's going to nod off again. The room is completely silent and I feel like we're still conversing. It's the strangest, most fulfilling feeling. Leo is asleep pretty soon and I'm uncomfortable in this chair. I get up and walk the halls again.   
  
I glance around the room and catch sight of a payphone. Then I have an epiphany. I get up and gallop over, dig around in my pocket for change, and dial my home number.   
  
Mom was ecstatic to hear about Leo and the debate and the fight and everything else. Mom is always ecstatic to hear about things I do. I guess that's why she's my mom. Then I told her I'd be coming home tomorrow, and she told me to bring Leo with me. She said she'd buy the plane tickets and they'd be waiting for us at the terminal in the morning.   
  
******************************************   
  
  
  
I forgot about the time difference as I called home. It was almost nine now in Chicago, and Josie was sleeping on a cot in the room with the phone. She answered groggily.   
  
"'Lo?"   
  
"Josie!"   
  
"Who is this?"   
  
"This is your favorite older brother, smartass," I can't help but smile. I didn't realize how much I missed the two little scamps.   
  
"Leo!" Josie is definitely awake now, and hollering for Mom and Elizabeth. "And don't call me a smartass, you schmuck."   
  
"How's everything going around there, huh?"   
  
"It's pretty boring. We've been playing some baseball, but Mom won't let us wander too far from the house since you're not around to keep an eye on us."   
  
"You're kidding! Mom must know that I pay absolutely no attention to you two once we get out of the house," I smile.   
  
"Yeah, you got that right. Anyway, I've been doing summer reading and stuff. Elizabeth is taking swimming at the Y, so I have to walk her there and then walk her back."   
  
"How's Aunt Fran?"   
  
"She's as dictatorial and oppressive as ever," Josie giggles.   
  
"And it sounds like you've been studying summer vocabulary, too," I say.   
  
"Just so I can have a conversation with you and understand what you're saying," she's still giggling. "Lizzie wants to talk to you."   
  
"Okay," I smile. I can just see Elizabeth curled up in her pajamas pulling Josie's hair until she relinquishes the phone.   
  
"Hey, Leo!"   
  
"Hey, Lizzie! I miss you!"   
  
"I miss you, too. Josie refuses to give me piggyback rides and buy me bubble gum. You hafta come home soon, Leo!"   
  
"I'll be home soon enough. Is Mama downstairs yet?"   
  
"Yeah, hang on," Lizzie drops the phone and I can hear her bare feet hit the floor as she runs to get Mom.   
  
Jed's smiling at me like an idiot.   
  
"What?" I say, looking at him.   
  
"You're quite the doting older brother, Leopold," he says.   
  
"Shut up," I smile at him.   
  
"Leo?" I hear my mother's voice and I get a pang in my chest. I miss them so much.   
  
"Hey, Mom. How are you?"   
  
"I'm okay, baby. How are things going around there?"   
  
"Well, Mom. We got into some trouble today. We brought up segregation on the floor this morning and a fight broke out."   
  
"Leo! You weren't fighting, were you?"   
  
"Well, not exactly. I was trying to rescue Jed from getting creamed and another guy tripped me. I fell and broke my arm."   
  
"Leo! Your arm! Which one? Can you still write?"   
  
"Yes ma'am. My left arm, and it'll be fine. However, since we were fighting, we can't stay at Nation."   
  
"Oh, Leo. Why do you always have to be the scapegoat for the issue? Just let someone else take credit for once, baby. You worked so hard to get there," Mom sounds so disappointed. I look down so Jed can't see the tears in my eyes.   
  
"I know, Mama. I know," is all I can manage.   
  
"So, you're coming home soon?"   
  
"Well, actually I was calling to get permission to go out to New Hampshire with a friend of mine for a couple weeks. His mom invited me out there and she said she'd pay for the plane ticket," I say. Mom is quiet for a couple minutes. "Mom?"   
  
"Yeah. Who's this friend, Leo? You didn't know the other boy from Illinois, right?"   
  
"No, ma'am. I met him the first day we were here. I actually saved him from getting creamed in the cafeteria. His name is Jed Bartlet."   
  
"It sounds like you two seem to get into trouble together," Mom says, but I can tell she's smiling.   
  
"Yes, ma'am. We've been in our fair share of trouble together. He's great, Mom. I hope you get to meet him."   
  
"Well, I'm glad you've made a friend, Leo. I know it's been hard for you since we moved from Boston," Mom sighs.   
  
"So, is it okay if I go?"   
  
"I suppose so, baby. You've just got to be careful. Do me a favor and call when you get there, okay?"   
  
"Yes, ma'am."   
  
"I love you, Leo. I'm so proud of everything you've done. I know you only get in trouble when it's something you believe in. Just keep believing, baby. You're going to do big things someday."   
  
"Yes, ma'am," I smile. "I love you, too. Kiss Josie and Lizzie for me."   
  
I hang up the phone and turn to look at Jed.   
  
"Looks like we're going to New Hampshire," I smile.   
  
TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: Skips ahead to the summer after high school graduation, sometime in June 1960. Series will continue to track the relationship until present.  
Feedback: Diamonds in the Rough.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Jed!"  
  
I don't move. I pretend I'm still asleep, hoping Mom will feel sorry for me since I've only been asleep for an hour and a half. Finals are this week. The final finals. Graduation is this weekend. I can hardly believe it. I got home last night around seven, and went straight to my room to study for my Latin final, which is in three hours.  
  
"Jed!" Mom is in my room now, and she's flipped on the lamp next to my bed. "Josiah, I know you're tired. I know you had a big weekend and I know you were up all night studying, but if you don't go do your chores your father will hold your diploma."  
  
Mom's just joking, but I really wouldn't put it past Dad at this point. After the fights we've been having lately, he's beyond ready to be rid of me. You can cut the tension in this house with a knife.  
  
I sit up slowly and pull the blankets around my legs.  
  
"So, how's Leo? You were so hot to study last night you didn't even tell me how graduation went, sweetheart!" Mom's picking up the papers that are scattered all over the room. I've been translating Ovid for six months and I'm almost done with Metamorphosis. I also practiced verb conjugations for about forty-five of those scattered pages.  
  
"He's great, Mom. His mom is doing a lot better, and Josie and Liz have grown up like you wouldn't believe. His speech was amazing. I'm thinking about stealing some of his ideas," I yawn, waiting for Mom to leave so I can put some pants on.  
  
"I thought you had to submit your speech for approval last week," Mom says.  
  
"I did, but you know me. I like to speak extemporaneously," I smile.  
  
"You're just going to go out of your way to stick it to your father, aren't you, Jed?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am," I smile.  
  
"Well, get going on your chores. I'll have breakfast for you when you're done."  
  
  
It's another amazing morning on this farm. Having Mom wake me up in the morning and then coming out here for milk and my first cigarette are the only things I'll miss about this place come fall. It's gonna be so weird not having Mom around all the time.  
  
I still can't believe I'm finally graduating. I also can't believe that Leo can't come this weekend. We've had the summer planned for months, and at the last minute his scholarship interview for Michigan got changed. It's okay though. I think he was more upset about it than I was. His sisters made fun of us all weekend. Josie said we might as well be dating, as emotional as we are when we get to see each other.   
  
I told Leo this weekend I've decided to study for priesthood at Notre Dame. He was pretty surprised. I'd been planning on economics for the past couple years, but after spending all year teaching a CCD class and interning at church, I think this is really what I want to do.  
  
Leo asked me if I was that sure that I was never gonna get laid. I didn't even have a date to my own prom. I'm pretty sure that if I were supposed to meet the person I'm going to marry, I would have met her by now. Leo dates all the time, and rarely dates the same girl more than once or twice. Leo also said he doesn't know many priests that smoke half a pack of Marlboros a day. I'll cut back.  
  
I finish milking Eleanor, the cow my mom named after herself, finish my cigarette, and trudge back up to the house, reciting verb endings for the pluperfect tense as I go. Mom has my typical breakfast on the table, and I eat quickly. She kisses my cheek and wishes me luck on my final, and I grab my books and keys and am out the front door before my father has come downstairs.  
  
I drive down the dirt road pretty slowly, enjoying the morning. I've become a lot more sentimental about nature and stuff lately. I think it's because I know I'm not coming back here again for a very long time after August. Mom knows that, too. She knows that until Dad is gone, I won't be able to rest easy in the house. I know I'm breaking her heart. But this is what I have to do. I'll stay at Notre Dame all year and probably go to Chicago with Leo for the holidays. But she doesn't complain. She just smiles at me and nods. God bless her.  
  
  
  
I don't know why the hell I stayed up all night studying for Latin. The final was so stupid. Just some translation and Roman history. My teacher congratulated me as I turned my test in. He also handed me a slip of paper. He suggested I include the quote in my valedictorian speech.  
  
Illegitimi non carborundum.  
  
Don't let the bastards take you down.  
  
I'm sure Dad would just love that one. I smile at my teacher and then exit the room, before all of my classmates. They all hate me anyway, so it's just that much better I guess.   
  
I drive into town and buy lunch for Mrs. Landingham and myself. I drive back to school and eat with her in the Ladies' Faculty Lounge. I've become almost a novelty in the room since Mrs. Landingham took over last year. This is another one of those things that drives my father crazy. I ask her if she's afraid for her job because of our friendship. She shrugs it off and changes the subject. She'll be the other thing I miss when I ship off to South Bend in the fall. Mrs. Landingham has really become like the big sister I never had.  
  
She asks how Leo is doing and how graduation went. I tell her all about his valedictorian speech and how much better his Mom is doing. She says she's so excited to see him again, and I have to tell her he can't come to graduation. She's disappointed, probably mostly for me.   
  
  
  
It's Saturday now, and I'm in my room getting ready for our non-denominational baccalaureate service, which will be followed immediately by commencement. Baccalaureate is the only event of the day that I'm not allowed to speak at. Dad's too afraid I'll go Catholic on him and offend my classmates. They've offended me for four years, wouldn't you think I'd get a little revenge? Nope. Not this time, Jed.  
  
"Josiah!" Mom calls from downstairs. I can see Jonathan out my window, shooting baskets on the hoop hung on the side of one of the barns. Mom made him come home from Rutgers for the weekend. I'm sure he wouldn't have bothered otherwise.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," I shout, still tying my uniform tie for the very last time. After today, I'll never have to wear this thing again.  
  
"We have a surprise for you downstairs, sweetheart," Mom calls back. She sounds really excited.  
  
"Mom, I can see Jonathan out the window. And I heard you talking to him last night on the phone. No surprise there," I call, scooping up my cap and gown and the copy of my speech.  
  
"Jed, your brother was not the surprise. The surprise is downstairs. I think you really ought to hurry down!"  
  
I don't know what it could possibly be. I'd begged my parents all spring to let me get another dog after our Labrador retriever died. But it's a little late now to be buying me a dog, unless they expect me to be able to keep it in the dorm.  
  
I bound down the stairs and see an extremely familiar suitcase sitting in the foyer. I don't even have to get to the kitchen.  
  
"Leo!" I shout, and break into a run. He's sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, wearing his lopsided grin.   
  
"Hello, Mr. Valedictorian," he says, standing up. I wrap my arms around his shoulders like I haven't seen him in a year.  
  
"What happened? Did they cancel your interview?"  
  
"No. It was yesterday, so I drove all night. I wouldn't miss this, Jed," he smiles, and sits back down. "I bet Delores was going to be pissed at me for not coming."  
  
"Leopold, watch your language," my mother chides, trying not to laugh. Mom absolutely adores Leo. She has from the first time he set foot in the house two summers ago.  
  
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Bartlet," he smiles, and then looks back at me. "Ready for your speech? I'm sure all your classmates are bringing pillows and blankets."  
  
"Shut up," I say, pouring myself a cup of coffee and sitting next to him at the table. "Did you really drive all the way from Michigan?"  
  
"Yes," he says. "And if I weren't so angry at myself for blowing my interview I probably would have fallen asleep and run off the road."  
  
"Oh, get real. You don't blow interviews," I say.  
  
"Well, interviews are important. Michigan isn't throwing money at me," Leo says, rather condescendingly.  
  
"Notre Dame is not throwing money at me, jackass," I reply. "You'll probably wind up with more scholarship money than me anyway."  
  
"Language, Jed," my mother mutters and swats my shoulder on her way out of the kitchen. I wait for her to get out of earshot before continuing my conversation.  
  
"So, how long are you staying?"  
  
"As long as I can, I guess. I know your dad doesn't -" I cut Leo off.  
  
"I don't care about my dad, Leo. Maybe we can get jobs together this summer or something," I say.  
  
"You don't need a job, Jed. You should spend your summer relaxing and trying to get laid," he smirks.   
  
"Well, I'm definitely not gonna get laid in Manchester, New Hampshire. We should go try to get messenger jobs at a Kennedy office," I smile. "You know you want to. We could go to Boston, Leo. A whole summer in Boston, just you, me, and Jack."  
  
"Jack isn't going to be in Boston," Leo rolls his eyes at me. "But your idea is intriguing. He's gonna win, Jed. He has to."  
  
"No kidding. I think if Nixon wins I'll defect," I smile.  
  
"You're full of it," he laughs. "A whole summer in Boston, though. I'm sure you'd drag me to Red Sox games."  
  
"Yes, Leo. Baseball. Beer. Girls. Well, girls for you anyway. I don't know what the big attraction is," I sigh. "You're short, you wear your hair like you're ready to ship out any day, and you're an incredibly dull conversationalist."  
  
"First of all, you're short too. Second of all, anyone is an incredibly dull conversationalist when they're in the conversation with you, Jed. You know why? Because you barely pause for air."  
  
"If you'll excuse me, I have a moving graduation speech to deliver," I say, standing up. Leo stands up too, takes our coffee mugs and puts them in the sink, and follows me out of the kitchen.  
  
"It's gonna be a big crowd. Ya nervous?"  
  
"Not really," I smirk.  
  
"It's your kind of crowd," he says, and we head out the front door toward my beat-up Ford.  
  
  
*************************************************  
  
  
  
I keep replaying his speech over and over in my mind. It amazes me how well he speaks. I don't think he looked down at his draft even once. He pulls his words off of faces in the audience, out of his big brain, and his even bigger heart.  
  
They gave him a standing ovation when he was done. It surprised me. I think it surprised him most of all. Even his father stood up behind him, reluctant as he might have been. Jed stood there and shared his vision for the future. He told his classmates what he expected them to turn the world into. Jed Bartlet, my best friend, the idealist. He'll never grow out of it.  
  
He's been in the house now for a couple hours. Most of his family gets a little squeamish with me around, and I get a little squeamish around his father. To the Bartlet family, I'm Jed's poor friend from Chicago. The freeloader. Mrs. Bartlet fixed me a plate of food and I came out here and climbed into the loft of the barn, where I've been ever since. He knows where to find me, and he should be up anytime now with cigars and hopefully some alcohol that he pilfered from Jonathan's room.   
  
The moon is full and shining over the farm. I lean back and try to position myself so the hay isn't digging into my bare back. It's hot tonight, which is strange for New Hampshire. It's usually nice and cool after dark, but not tonight. One of the worst hot spells Jed says he can ever remember. I hear something crash down in the barn. Must be Jed, tripping over a rake or something. I sit up, trying to brush the hay off of me. The sweat makes it stick, so I give up and peer down into the dark below.  
  
"Is that you, jackass?" I say.   
  
"Yeah, hang on a second," Jed calls back. He's trying to climb up the ladder with a plate of food and a bottle of booze. I reach my hand down and he hands me the bottle. Wild Irish Rose. I've removed the top and taken a couple swigs by the time he's up in the loft with me.  
  
"Having a nice time up here without me?" he murmurs, setting the food down and peeling his t-shirt off. "It must still be ninety degrees outside."  
  
"It's a nice night," I mumble in reply. Jed strikes a match and for a minute his face is illuminated from the fire. He blows it out and all that's left is the reddish glow from his cigarette. "How's the family doing?"  
  
"Oh, just great. You'd think Jonathan had graduated again from the way they're fawning over him in there. Mom seemed to sense that I was getting annoyed and told me I could go if I wanted. Dad and his brothers have been in his study almost since we got back here, talking politics I suppose. I've always wondered what they talk about in there," Jed says. He leans into the moonlight to flick ash out of the barn.  
  
"You should have brought Delores up," I chuckle.   
  
"She didn't stay long. Andrew and Simon both somehow ended up with the mumps," Jed says.  
  
"The mumps? Aren't they a little old to be getting the mumps?"   
  
"That's what I said, but you know Delores. Andrew and Simon are her whole world. And I don't think Mr. Landingham does too well with sick twins," Jed smiles. "I don't think the mumps will keep the two of them out of trouble, anyway."  
  
I laugh at that. Jed's letters are always full of 'Guess what Andrew and Simon did this time' stories. The twins are the closest things Jed has to friends in Manchester. They're just fifteen, and they go to public high school, but Jed tutors both of them in Latin and they get along pretty well.  
  
"What's she gonna do without you to boss around next year?"  
  
"I suppose she'll survive. I'm gonna miss her, Leo," Jed sighs.  
  
"I know. But she knows you've got to go. She knows you almost as well as I do," I reply, reaching for the bottle again. I can feel Jed's eyes on me, monitoring the alcohol intake.  
  
"Well, anyway, I've got some news. Mr. Landingham's brother lives right outside of Boston, and he has an apartment above the shoe store he owns. Mrs. L said he'd agree to let us have the apartment for the summer in exchange for doing some stocking at night," Jed smiles.  
  
"We could work for Jack during the day," I reply, and envision the two of us passing out anti-Nixon propaganda and getting drunk in my father's favorite pub.  
  
"Indeed we could," he says, and reaches across the hay for the bottle. He takes a couple of swigs and returns it to my grasp. "I don't know how you drink that stuff."  
  
"It tops communion wine, that's for sure," I smile. It's quiet in the loft for a while, and I can't help but think that Josie and Liz would love it here. Josie loved our neighborhood in Boston. It was more open than Chicago is. Liz is too young to remember I guess, but she loved it too. I can still see the two of them running around in their underwear while I sprayed them with the garden hose.  
  
"How's Mom doing, Leo?" Jed finally breaks the silence. I try not to think about how she looked when I left. Like a ghost in her bed. But so much better than she looked at Christmas.  
  
"The doctors think the cancer has slowed down," I say quietly. "She's still on all that medicine though, Jed. It took all her strength to get up while you were in town last weekend. She didn't want to miss seeing you though," I stretch my legs out in front of me.  
  
"She wanted to see you graduate, Leo. She couldn't have been more proud," he replies. I smile, even though he can't see my face.  
  
"I don't know what's going to happen when she passes," I mumble. I probably wouldn't say so much but for the alcohol in my system. "Josie and Liz will probably ship off to Aunt Mary's in Atlanta. I'll never get to see them. They'll forget all about me."  
  
"Leo, they could never forget about you. You're their big brother. You've practically raised them," Jed sits up, and I can see his face and bare shoulders in the moonlight. "You're going to college so you can get a job and send them both to school, too."  
  
"Aunt Frances left them enough money to go to school. And enough money for Mom to be comfortable until ... until..." I break off and grab the bottle, trying to swallow down the tears.  
  
"Anyway, Mr. Landingham has a place for us in Boston. I say we get the hell out of here," Jed says, lighting another cigarette.  
  
"Yeah," I reply, and turn to look out at the farm again.  
  
  
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I startle out of my sleep just before dawn. I don't remember when I fell asleep last night, but it was obviously before Leo, judging by the empty bottle next to his still sleeping form. He's got hay stuck to his hair and pretty much everywhere else. I take the bottle and climb out of the loft in bare feet to get my chores done. It's Sunday, so I'll get showered and go to early mass with Mom before Leo wakes up.  
  
Dad is sitting at the kitchen table when I walk into the house with the milk. He doesn't even look up from the newspaper. I clank the bucket down into one of the sinks, more loudly than I should have, and pad back through the kitchen. I can hear my father mutter something under his breath as I pass. I take the high road and climb the stairs two at a time.  
  
I stand in the shower long enough to get the barn smell off of me, and towel off quickly before dressing for mass. My hair doesn't want to lay right this morning, but I'm not in the mood to fool with it. Mom comes out of my brother's room just as I leave mine. She reaches out and slides her arm around my shoulders as we walk downstairs.  
  
"We'll be back for lunch, Jonathan," she calls to my father as we exit the house.  
  
"Yeah," he says, and I'm surprised she got that much reply. I open the car door for Mom and then cross around to my side. We back out of the garage and I imagine Leo's still sleeping soundly in the hay.  
  
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Judging from the sun in my face, I assume it's about noon when I wake up alone in the loft. I forgot today was Sunday. Jed was probably up before dawn to milk the cow and go to church. I can't help but laugh at the thought of Jed carrying the cross up the aisle before mass. And this whole thing now with studying for priesthood. I don't imagine that will last through first semester. There are big things in his future, and hearing confessions isn't one of them.  
  
I don't think he realizes that he has, like, a destiny. He's going to change the world. I'm not really sure how he's going to do it yet. I'm sure, once he realizes he needs to major in economics, that that destiny will reveal itself. Right now, however, I'm perfectly content on being along for the ride.   
  
I stretch my legs and arms before standing up and attempting to brush most of the hay off of me. I'm sure there's pieces stuck somewhere, but I'm too hung over to care much. I peer out of the barn to see Mr. Bartlet helping Jonathan put his stuff in the car. I take my cue and climb out of the loft, sneak across the yard, and hustle upstairs to get in the shower before Mr. Bartlet has a chance to shoot me a dirty look.  
  
I'm careful to check my tracks and make sure I didn't leave hay behind me as I pad through the kitchen and up the stairs to Jed's room. His room is at the end of the hallway on the second floor. I open the door to see that pretty much nothing has changed since I was here over winter break. He had pennants hanging on the wall for each school he applied to last time I was here. There's only two hanging now, Notre Dame and Michigan. He didn't apply to Michigan, but I brought it to him when I was here last time. The American flag is still hanging above his bed, and his bed is still unmade. I flop down on his bed and turn over to look at his nightstand. The picture Josie took of us last summer is framed and sitting on top of a wooden box. He's wearing his Red Sox cap, and I'm wearing my White Sox cap, and we're sitting on our stoop playing chess. I still can't believe he sat right there in the middle of Chicago with a Red Sox cap on. Jed Bartlet is a pompous ass.  
  
I reach over and gently remove the box from under the picture. I'm guessing he made it, because it's pretty pathetic looking. The top is carved in a nice pattern though, surrounding the seal of the Roman people. I roll my eyes and open the box. There are a few ribbons from school competitions, and some postcards his uncle sent his father from Italy. I imagine Jed just liked the pictures. I lift out his Saint Christopher's medal and wonder why he isn't wearing it. Then I notice the clasp on the chain is broken and I put it back in the box.  
  
I'm about to close the box when my finger slips and pushes the bottom of the box up. I hold it up and realize there's a false bottom in it. I roll my eyes again and wonder what he could possibly need a false bottom in this box for. I lift all the junk out and pry the bottom up, to find several newspaper clippings and what I imagine is every letter I've ever written to him. My untidy scrawl covers what must be over a hundred dingy envelopes. I can't believe he saved them all.  
  
I take a closer look at the newspaper clippings and realize they're from the Chicago Sun-Times. There's a clipping from the results of the Illinois Forensics Tournament, which I won; a clipping from the State Latin Convention, where several of us were nearly arrested for disturbing the peace, photo of yours truly in a toga included; and Aunt Frances' obituary. Jed must be subscribing to the Chicago Sun-Times, because I didn't send him these.  
  
I replace everything like I found it and make my way into the bathroom. If Jed went to early mass, he should really be back by now. I wonder what they're doing. The shower does wonders for my headache. I towel off, pull on a pair of jeans, brush my teeth, and go back to Jed's room, where he's sitting on the bed pulling off his tie.  
  
"How was church?" I ask.  
  
"Just fine," he says, without looking up. He's probably upset that Jonathan left without saying goodbye to him. I don't know why Jed expects his brother to all of the sudden take an interest in him. Jonathan is too much like his dad.  
  
"I saw Jonathan leave this morning," I say, sitting down next to him on the bed.  
  
"Yeah," Jed says, and tosses the tie behind him. "Mr. Landingham talked us into coming over for brunch after mass. The twins were apparently getting restless and were in desperate need of entertainment. I had the mumps when I was eight so it wasn't a big deal," he continues as he pulls his dress shirt off. "Mrs. Landingham told Mom all about the apartment over the shoe store, and Mom seemed to be fine with it. I almost told Mom she should come with us."  
  
"Good thing you caught yourself," I reply. The first, and consequently the last, time Jed ever suggested divorce to his mother was the first time she ever struck him. Mrs. Bartlet is more devout than Jed is, if that's humanly possible.  
  
"I hate to leave her here, Leo. Although, who knows. Maybe once I'm gone Dad will return to human form, and Mom will be happy again," Jed sighs. I sigh too.  
  
"Delores is here. Your mom has friends at church, and she's got work in the registrar's office. She'll be fine, Jed. You've gotta grow up sometime," I say, trying to sound reassuring.  
  
"Yeah," he says. He still doesn't look up, and I know this will bother him all summer. Jed knows what he's got to do. I've just got to be patient while he works up the courage to do it.  
  
TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Notes: More Leo, more Jed. Apparently this is alternate universe now, because ABS claims they weren't friends until 11 years prior to 'Bartlet for America.' That's fine, but to me, this makes more sense.  
  
Feedback: Love it.  
  
  
  
  
  
The breeze is cool on my bare chest as I continue to stare at the ceiling. I have no idea how long I've been lying here. Leo's been gone for hours. He didn't even really say where he was going. Just said he had a few things he'd like to do, and he'd be back soon. I've been to Boston plenty of times, but Leo's back in his element. I hope he doesn't take to disappearing all summer.  
  
Mr. Landingham's apartment is pretty roomy for being above a shoe store. I can see the harbor from where I'm lying on the sofa. I can hear drunks carousing in the street through the open window. I can hear Leo. Yelling up at me. I sigh loudly and make my way to the window.  
  
"Hey, Jed!" Leo shouts up. He's holding a bottle, and there are a couple of really tall guys with him.  
  
"Yes, Leopold," I reply, reaching into the pocket of my shorts for my cigarettes.  
  
"You gotta come on down and meet these fellas," he says, though if I weren't so good at interpreting drunk Leospeak, I surely wouldn't have had any idea what he said.  
  
"Okay, Leo," I say. I strike a match and light up as I descend the stairs and walk through Mr. Landingham's store.  
  
The guys Leo are with are sort of standing back behind him, whispering amongst themselves. It's obvious they've been drinking, but it's been a while since Leo drank with Boston boys. He's considerably sloppier.  
  
I step into the street in my bare feet, and Leo's at my side in a beat, reaching for my cigarette. I pass it to him and he takes a long drag. He's pretty well gone. If Leo wants to smoke something, he usually swipes one of my cigars.  
  
He passes the cigarette back to me and wipes his hand on the front of his unbuttoned shirt.  
  
"Jed, this is Aidan Kelly and Tom McLarty. We were in grade school together," Leo says. He grins in the direction of the pair, who nod in my direction. It's obvious that the two of them don't think much of Leo, and it bothers me. "Aidan used to take my milk money. He used to do all sorts of mean stuff." Leo takes another big swallow of what smells from here like scotch.  
  
"Yeah, well. You weren't much of a fighter, Leo," one of them mutters. It's dark, and I can't see which one is talking.  
  
"Well, it was real nice to meet you fellas. Whaddya say we turn in Leo? You look pretty tired," I say.  
  
"I'm not tired, Jed. I'm drunk," he says, and settles none too gracefully onto the curb. The pair are laughing outright now, and I'm starting to lose my temper.  
  
"You stop by anytime, Leo. It's always a pleasure to see you," one of them says, and they begin to quickly walk off, laughing between sentences. I stand and watch them as Leo begins to throw up all the alcohol that's sitting on his stomach. The two pass under a street light, and I realize they've taken his wallet.  
  
"Leo, stay put," I say, and set off after them. We're about a block away when I catch them.  
  
"Hey, fellas. How about you give me the wallet back and I don't say anything to Leo?"  
  
"Hey, sweetheart. How about you turn around and go take care of the lush?"  
  
We're staring each other down. I don't have a chance in a fight, so I try to keep my cool.  
  
"Just give me the wallet back," I say. One of them makes a move like he's going to grab me, when an older man walks around the corner. The wallet quickly disappears from sight.  
  
"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" The man asks.  
  
"No, sir. I was just showing these two the wallet my sister gave me for my birthday," I quickly say, before the other two have a chance to speak. They both glare at me.  
  
"Yeah, it's a nice one," one of them says, handing me the beat-up brown leather wallet back. "See ya 'round."  
  
The older man nods at me and continues on his way as Leo's two classmates turn and walk away. I let out a large sigh and turn around. I open the wallet to find it empty. If there was any money in it after tonight's drinking spree, the two of them must have taken it. I look up and see Leo, leaned over and gazing fixedly at a puddle in the street. I take my own wallet out and slip a twenty dollar bill into Leo's.  
  
"Come on, Leo," I say, putting a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I wanted nothing more than to be like those two when we were in fourth grade," Leo mumbles as I steer him into the door of the shoe store. "What a couple of jackasses they turned out to be."  
  
"That's right, Leo. A couple of jackasses," I murmur. It gets harder and harder to help him up the stairs. It gets harder and harder to see him lose himself in a glass all the time. He's so smart. He's got so much to accomplish.  
  
We make it up the stairs and he makes his way over to his cot. I watch as he tries to figure out what to do with the bottle while he takes his shirt off. He stands there for a minute before dissolving into tears.  
  
"Leo!" I say, taken aback. He must be completely gone. I take the bottle out of his hand and he shrinks against the cot. "Leo, what's wrong? It's all right, man. Just take a deep breath."  
  
He looks up at me, tears flowing freely, and inhales sharply.  
  
"I'm going to end up like my father, Jed. Are you still going to be my best friend when I cheat on my wife and beat my daughters?"  
  
I can't help the lump in my throat. Maybe it was a bad idea to bring Leo back to Boston. There are so many painful memories for him here.  
  
"Leo, you can't possibly end up like your father. There's too much good in you. It won't happen. I won't let it," I say, trying to calm him down. He shrugs his shirt off and curls up on the cot. I kneel on the floor next to him and try to calm him, but he's crying into his pillow and won't look at me. I stay there until he's cried himself to sleep, then I resume my previous position on the sofa.  
  
He looks perfectly innocent when he sleeps. The lines in his face disappear and his shoulders, normally drawn up in tension, relax along with the rest of him. I look at him a minute longer before I start to cry. I turn over and look out the window, not bothering to wipe the tears now wetting my face.  
  
I won't let him end up like his father. I'll take care of him, whether he likes it or not.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
I wake up alone in the apartment. The sunlight coming in through the window is almost blinding, and it feels like my head might split from this headache. According to the clock on the wall it's almost noon, and I groan. Jed's probably been down at the office for hours already. I force myself up off the cot, and stand in the middle of the room for a minute, surveying any damage I might have done last night. Everything looks fine, save an empty bottle sitting next to the sink. I cross the room and pick up the bottle to verify that it's empty.  
  
I had pints in a pub last night with the guys, so I imagine I wouldn't have finished this bottle last night. Jed wisely emptied it for me, right down the drain. What the hell happened last night? I don't even remember getting back over here.  
  
I'm sure it was Jed to the rescue. It's no small wonder that he still calls me his best friend. I wouldn't be able to handle me ... day after day after day.  
  
  
  
I come down the stairs and step into the store after showering and shaving. The store seems to be in lunch hour lull, and Mr. Landingham is sitting behind the counter, changing the price tags on some boxes.  
  
"Good morning, Mr. Landingham," I say, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.  
  
"More like afternoon, son," he says, without looking up. "And I told you two when you got here, you can call me Ed."  
  
"Mr. Landingham always tells us to call him Henry, too," I smile.  
  
"Yes, I know. And it never works," he says, looking up at me. "Jed said he was going to see if there was anything for him to do at the office. He's probably still down there, Leo. The boy will work himself to death."  
  
"Anything you need help with around here?"  
  
"I'm changing the prices on these now, so you two can shelve them tonight after closing. You two are welcome to come out to Quincy for dinner if you like," he smiles.  
  
"Well, thank you, sir. I'll check with Jed and see what his plans are," I say, patting my back pocket to make sure I have my wallet. "I'm off to the office."  
  
"All right. Have a good day, son," he says, and turns back to his boxes.  
  
"Same to you, sir," I smile, and I'm off.  
  
  
  
It's about six blocks to the Kennedy office from Mr. Landingham's store. Boston is a great city. I don't mind at all walking from place to place. I could drive, but I feel more a part of the city by being a pedestrian. I try to take in every sight and sound, and pretty soon I'm in a daze. I hardly realize it when I turn the corner to the storefront where the office is located.  
  
Jed is up on a scaffold, trying to hang a sign. From the looks of it he's been up there for a while. There are nails all over the ground under him, and as I get closer I can hear Jed cursing under his breath. I try not to laugh and stand watching him for a few minutes. He finally gets the sign to stay up and backs up on the platform to get a better look.  
  
"I think it's crooked," I say. Jed turns an icy gaze on me.  
  
"You wanna get up here and straighten it out, half pint?" I laugh and bend down to pick up the nails. Jed climbs down the scaffold and leans against the window as I finish gathering the nails. "How are you feeling this morning?"  
  
"Pretty stupid," I mutter, not looking up. "Was it bad?"  
  
"No, you weren't too bad. You introduced me to a couple of your friends and I helped you upstairs," he says, and I know he's lying. It must be worse than normal, because he can't even keep eye contact.  
  
"Okay," I say. He'll tell me eventually. Probably at the worst time possible. But that's Jed. And that's why I love him.  
  
"You want to get something to eat? This was all they had for us to do today," he says, gesturing up at the sign. "They say they'll have envelopes and stuff for us to do tomorrow. Maybe phone calls."  
  
"Okay," I say. "Mr. Landingham invited us out to Quincy for dinner. I could show you the old house and stuff."  
  
"You sure you want to go all the way out there?" Jed sounds sort of unsure.  
  
"Jed, it's like a ten minute car ride. Did you have other plans?"  
  
"No, no. Whatever you wanna do, Leo. That's fine," he says.  
  
"Okay," I say. He's acting weird. "Let's go to the deli."  
  
  
  
  
  
After lunch we walked around the city. Jed dragged me into a couple bookstores. His life's mission has been to find a copy of the United States Constitution in Latin. You'd think, with all the time he's spent looking for it, he might just sit down and do it himself. I better not suggest that, or I'll be by myself for two weeks while he sits around with a legal pad.  
  
He's showering as I sit here contemplating my certain doom in our chess game. I enjoyed the days when I could beat him with little or no effort. Jed's definitely improved; thinks out his strategy, takes more time. He's grown a lot since I met him. Slowly but surely, he's thinking before he speaks. Which has saved us more trouble than I care to acknowledge.  
  
Although, I don't know where I get off complaining about Jed's manners. He's right on target with his comebacks and quips almost all the time. He can piss people off and have his wits about him to defend himself. I only piss people off when I'm drunk. Otherwise I don't say much. Not unless I'm defending the Mouth. When Jed has to defend me, I can't thank him until I'm sober.  
  
Take last night, for example. I don't know what happened. I was in Kelly's Pub with some guys I went to elementary school with. Aidan Kelly was there; his dad owns the place. Our fathers were boyhood friends. However, the two of us never got along. I imagine I tried to be civil last night, because, you know, they were buying me drinks. Somehow, either Jed came looking for me, or I took the guys back over to Landingham's.  
  
I left the apartment last night with sixteen dollars in my wallet.  
  
When I pulled my wallet out to pay for my lunch today, there was a crisp twenty dollar bill replacing the rumpled fives and ones. Which leads me to the conclusion that someone tried to make off with my money. I either gambled it away or someone picked my pocket. Not only is Jed protecting me from getting killed all the time, but now he's literally paying for my mistakes.  
  
I don't know whether to kiss him or knock his head off.  
  
  
  
**************************************************************************** ********  
  
Dinner at the Boston Landinghams' house is not unlike dinner at the Manchester Landinghams' house. The Landingham brothers both have impeccable taste in women, for certain. Mrs. Alice Landingham is every bit as witty and charming as Mrs. Delores Landingham. The Boston Landinghams don't have any children of their own. However, Mrs. Alice Landingham teaches high school English Literature, and knows just how to make recently graduated high school students laugh.  
  
After dinner, Mr. Landingham offers us a drink. I accept, mostly because I know Leo will want one. However, he declines, even after Mr. Landingham tells us how scotch will keep you virile. Leo laughs and politely declines again. I accept the drink, which is really quite good. It's good scotch, not the crap Leo pays for with change he's found at the bottom of the laundry.  
  
This is social scotch. Scotch that tastes good. Not the scotch that is consumed as quickly as possible; so quickly that it matters not what it tastes like.  
  
Leo is eyeing my glass. It seems he's exerting Herculean effort not to snatch it right out of my hand.  
  
I finish the drink, and before Mr. Landingham can start telling war stories, I beg off. We have to be at the office early, and Leo still wants to show me some sights.  
  
I wince as I realize the real reason is Leo is about two seconds from asking for a drink. I can't go through dragging him up the stairs again. Not tonight.  
  
I finish the scotch and thank Mr. Landingham for having us. Mrs. Landingham appears as we're leaving and hands us each a plate of food before pecking our cheeks. She tells us not to get into too much trouble in the city. We thank her and make our way to Leo's car.  
  
"So, what do you want to see first?" He says, looking considerably calmer since we left the house.  
  
"Let's go see the house," I say, leaning back into the seat. The car, after several attempts and several muttered curses from Leo, roars to life. I don't know why I'm so proud of him right now. It's not like he's an alcoholic or anything.  
  
I sigh outloud.  
  
"What?" Leo's watching the road, but his brow is furrowed. He knows something's up.  
  
"Nothing. I'm just ... I don't know. Tired I guess."  
  
"We're almost there," he says. I wonder how he'll react when we pull up to the old place.  
  
This is a nice neighborhood. Nicer than I expected, anyway. I assume his father drank himself into debt before conveniently killing himself off and leaving his family with nothing. I would never say that out loud to Leo. Leo doesn't like to talk about money. And he doesn't like to talk about his father's lack of wisdom in dealing with money. He doesn't really like to talk about his father at all.  
  
He stops the car across the street from a two-story house. There's a garage sort of next to the house, and the whole yard is probably shaded during the day. I try to picture a little Leo running around outside during the summer. The only picture I get is a sandy-haired little scamp reading underneath a tree, glancing up every now and again to check on his younger sister.  
  
Leo's just sitting there, gripping the steering wheel. I can't even fathom what's running through his mind right now.  
  
"I taught Josie how to throw a curve ball over there," Leo says, the faintest of smiles playing at the corners of his mouth. He points to a park further up the street. "She was never afraid of anything."  
  
There's the picture I was trying for. Fiery little Josie McGarry, telling her older brother not to baby her. And Leo, trying not to laugh as she takes the baseball from him.  
  
He opens the car door and I follow suit. We stop and lean back against the hood, and he points up to a window at the side of the house.  
  
"That was my room. I had my own room. Josie hated that," he chuckles. "I had a rocking chair in my room. When Lizzie was a baby, Mama would come in and rock her to sleep so she wouldn't wake Josie. She knew I wouldn't mind. I even sent Mom back to bed sometimes and would fall asleep in the rocking chair with Lizzie. I always wanted Mom to sleep when she could, she needed the energy to put up with -" He stopped abruptly. "I was only eight then, when Lizzie was first born. And I was already more of a gentleman than my father."  
  
I don't know what to say. I never do when Leo brings up his dad.  
  
"Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if Dad wasn't the way he was. If he were still alive, and sober, and making money instead of squandering it. I wonder if we'd still be living in this same house. Do you think you and I would have ever met, Jed?"  
  
"Yeah, I think so, Leo. You would have kicked just as much ass here as you did in Illinois. You would have been a Massachusetts delegate to Nation. We would have met and gotten into the same amount of trouble, I think."  
  
"What if I weren't as idealistic? I bet if my dad were still around, I wouldn't care so much about segregation or anything like that. Because my dad never cared. I would be just like my dad, Jed. I would have been one of the guys in the cafeteria that day trying to get you to shut up."  
  
"Leo, you have too much of your mother in you. Your mother is full of compassion and pride and love. Your mother would have seen to it that you cared about things like segregation. Kate McGarry wouldn't let an ill-prepared son out into the world. With your dad or without him."  
  
"What if I didn't listen to her? What if I just mindlessly fell into the same trap my father did? Apathy, Jed. I think apathy killed him more than anything."  
  
"You couldn't not listen to her, Leo. You're too much like her."  
  
"I don't know. Sometimes I just wonder ..."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Leo starts walking up the street and I follow him. He gazes up at the window to the room that used to be his. I don't follow his gaze as it moves to rest on the garage. The garage where his father shot himself in the head. Leo looks back after a minute, and he looks like he wants to say something. After a minute, he doesn't. We're still walking up the street.  
  
We've gone a couple blocks from the car and a school building comes into focus.  
  
"There it is," Leo says. "Washington Grade School. The building where I learned to read and write, and keep my mouth shut."  
  
"They taught you to keep your mouth shut in grade school? And here I was going to the wrong place all along," I say and trail off. Leo won't smile.  
  
"St. Luke's is a few more blocks away. I don't really feel like walking. You want to go?"  
  
"No, no. It's okay. You wanna head back to town?"  
  
"Yeah," he says, and turns around. I walk a couple steps behind him. His shoulders are slumped, his head is sort of hung. He looks like he's carrying a heavy load on his back.  
  
"Leo, nothing will change what has happened to you. It's shaped who you are. And who you are is a brilliant guy with plenty of love to give. And you're my best friend, and I'm gonna watch out for you. No matter what you try and pull," I say.  
  
"Thanks, Jed," he answers, not turning back.  
  
  
  
We get back to town and park the car back behind the store. Leo's cheered up considerably, and I can't help but wonder how long it's been since he's gone to bed sober.  
  
He turns the lights on in the store as we enter, and locks the door behind him. I turn on the radio, and we begin putting the boxes up on the shelves for Mr. Landingham. Elvis is singing through the store, and Leo's laughing, and I'm so proud of him. And I really don't know why. 


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Notes: End of October, 1960. *Angst alert.* Next part is already in progress; I'll post soon.  
  
Feedback: Love it. Here or jedbartlet@another.com  
  
  
  
  
  
This campus is absolutely gorgeous. I've been pretty down all week since I left Chicago, but as soon as I turned into campus, I felt considerably better. According to my resident advisor, my roommate decided not to come at the last minute. How could you not want to come here? It's amazing. Oh well. I prefer having my own room anyway.  
  
It didn't take very long to move my things into the room and get everything straightened out. The door was open while I hung up the Michigan pennant, and I got several hisses from the hallway. They can sit on it for all I care. They don't know that my best friend is at Michigan right now. He's already been in class for a week, and there was a letter waiting for me when I got here.  
  
The letter is tucked in with two books for my theology class and my Roman history text, and I'm walking into town to get dinner and get to know the area a little better. I think I've already found my place. It's a gas station almost all the way to St. Mary's. There's no one in the place save the soda jerk, to whom I nod my greetings as I take a seat in a booth in the corner.  
  
He brings me a coke after I order it, though I hardly notice as I'm completely absorbed in Leo's letter. He's in the honors dormitory at Michigan. There's a curfew and lots of stuffy regulations. It's funny for Leo to complain about rules and curfew. The only reason curfew is a problem for him is his habit of late night walks. He likes to walk and think at the most ungodly hours. I'm sure he'll find a way around his curfew. Leo's not as innocent as most adults assume him to be. All manners, that one.  
  
He's taking physics, which he hates, more Latin, some history, and an English literature class. Right now he's planning on a sociology major and going straight to law school at Harvard. How he'll pay for Harvard, I have no clue. I know he'll do it though, if that's what he really wants. Leo will be great in a sociology major. He's always been interested in what makes people work. And he'll be a hell of a lawyer. I can hardly wait to see him in action. Probably a litigator. He'll be great.  
  
Then there's me. Father Jed. Doesn't have much of a ring to it. I was in the bookstore earlier flipping through an economics text, and I could have drooled. I'm not going to be able to resist taking a few of those courses. But I really, honestly feel like I should be a priest. I feel like that's where I'd do the most good for society.  
  
I have no idea. Leo doesn't give me the entire semester before I change my mind.  
  
  
  
It's getting closer to dinner time, but I'm not really hungry. I've been reading up on the Visigoths, and I've had at least three cokes. There are more people in the room now, and the soda jerk is in his element. Someone's got the jukebox playing, and I've had enough of this gas station for tonight. I leave some change on the table and gather up my books. I guess I'm sort of in a daze, because I back up and into a girl, causing her to spill soda all over herself. It surprises me so much that I drop my books all over the floor.  
  
I feel myself go bright red and I turn around. She's looking down, trying to wipe soda off of her shirt.  
  
"Nice going, jackass," she mutters. This causes me to smile. She's obviously a St. Mary's student, and I've never heard a good Catholic girl swear. Although, I suppose I've never really talked to any Catholic girls, save my mother and Mrs. Landingham. I've never really talked to girls at all. That's more Leo's department.  
  
"I'm really sorry," I say, and I'm surprised at my voice. I don't normally talk to girls. This is weird.  
  
And then she looks up. My confidence has suddenly fled.  
  
"Sorry isn't going to fix my blouse, is it?"  
  
I don't know what to say. I bend down and gather up my books. Think, Jed.  
  
"I'm really sorry," I say again as I try to stand up, and bump my head on the table. Jesus. She laughs a little bit, though I don't think she meant to. This makes me feel a little bit better. "Can I buy you another soda?"  
  
Where did that come from? What am I doing?  
  
A large fellow who I imagine is on our football team turns around and looks at me.  
  
"I'll get you another soda, Abbey," he says. She smiles at me and turns back to the guy.  
  
I just fell in love and had my heart broken in forty-five seconds.  
  
I get back to the dorm and drop my books haphazardly onto the bed. Then I sit down at my desk and begin a letter to Leo. Except I can't write Leo. All I can write is Abbey.  
  
I lean back in my chair and push my books around to find Leo's letter again. I can't find it. I get out of my chair and sit down on the bed, flip through all of my books, and still can't find it. I must have dropped it on the way home.  
  
I suddenly feel exhausted and lay back on my bed. I have no desire to do anything but close my eyes and picture that girl from the gas station diner. I've never seen a girl like her. Maybe I just haven't been paying attention.  
  
When I finally look up, it's dark outside. I need to have a smoke and then I'll sit down and write to Leo all about my forty-five second tale of heartbreak. There are some guys in the hallway playing poker, and ask me to sit down and play. I tell them I'm going out for a smoke and I'll be back.  
  
I could get used to this Indiana weather. It's a little warmer here at night than it is in Manchester, and I'm enjoying the feel of the grass under my bare feet. I walk until I find the spot on the lawn farthest from any building, then I sit down on the grass and light my cigar. I wonder if faculty members look down on smoking. I assume my professors will have more to say about it than others, what with my professors being men of the cloth and all.  
  
I lay back on the grass and look up at the stars. I wonder if Leo's looking at these same stars right now. The smoke floats slowly above me, and I close my eyes and think about us cavorting around the city all summer. And then the girl from the diner is back in my mind. I open my eyes, and she's still there. I close them, and open them again.  
  
"Are you Jed Bartlet?"  
  
She's standing right there. She's standing right here, on the lawn at Notre Dame.  
  
"What?" I can't stop myself, it's the first thing out of my mouth. What happened to Jed Bartlet, master conversationalist?  
  
"Are you Jed Bartlet?" She repeats herself, sort of smirking down at me. I sit up.  
  
"Yes." Jed! Come on! "It's nice to meet you," I add, holding my hand out to her. She shakes it and sits down on the grass next to me.  
  
"You left this in the diner," she says, and hands me an envelope. Leo's letter. I grin.  
  
"Oh, wow. Thanks a lot," I say. And I realize the cigar is still hanging out of my mouth.  
  
"I'm Abbey. Abbey Garrett. I'm a freshman at St. Mary's," she says. Is she starting a conversation with me?  
  
"I'm Jed Bartlet," I say.  
  
"I know," she says, and the smirk grows into a smile.  
  
"Right," I sigh. This is not going well at all. "I'm a freshman, too."  
  
"Are you from New England? You sound like it," she asks. Be still my heart.  
  
"Yes. New Hampshire. Manchester," I say. I know, at some point in my life, I was able to talk in complete sentences.  
  
"I'm from Boston. Dorchester, really."  
  
"I spent all summer in Boston. I worked in the Kennedy office," I reply. There you go, Jed. A whole sentence. Leo would be in hysterics right now.  
  
"You worked in the Kennedy office? On salary?" She looks almost impressed, but not quite.  
  
"Oh, well, no. My friend Leo and I volunteered all summer. We hung signs, made phone calls, stuffed envelopes. Stuff like that. Jack's gonna be the first Catholic president. We felt like we needed to contribute to that victory," I say. "We lived in an apartment above Landingham's Shoes. We did stocking for Mr. Landingham and he let us have the apartment."  
  
"You lived by yourself all summer in Boston?"  
  
"Yeah," I reply, and take another puff of my cigar. Then I realize she might not appreciate the cigar smoke. "Sorry. Does the smoke bother you?"  
  
She takes the cigar out of my hand and takes a puff. My mouth must be hanging wide open, because she's laughing at me again.  
  
"No, it doesn't bother me at all, Jed," she says.  
  
I'm in love.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
I've been at Michigan now for almost three weeks. Classes are going fine, except for physics, which regularly reduces me to tears. I've met a couple of guys that live on the hall, and we've been out and tossed a football around. They're nice enough guys I suppose; I just feel like I haven't had an intelligent conversation since the last time I saw Jed.  
  
It's still relatively warm here during the day, so I don't mind walking to and from my Latin class in the morning. A couple more weeks, however, and it's going to be a lot harder to make myself get out of bed. The class is interesting, as most of my other classes are. There's a law student here from Harvard this semester observing one of my sociology professors, and he seemed like a good guy. I'll have to get to know him better, find out what Harvard's like. Ask him how he's paying for it. I think the professor said his name was Lyman.  
  
I get back to my dorm before lunch to check the mail. Finally, a letter from Jed. I thought he'd never write.  
  
Leo,  
  
First of all, I don't see how you can't like physics! Of all your courses, I would think you'd like physics better than most anything else. We'll just chalk your lack of physics skill up to your being a student at Michigan and not Notre Dame. I hear they're pretty slack about admissions up there at Michigan. Especially in the Pre-Law department.  
  
My roommate didn't show. There's an empty bunk for you during your numerous visits. I haven't found a good place for the chess set yet, but I'll get it all worked out before you get here. Don't you worry about that.  
  
My classes are great. I'm taking Roman History (in fact, I just finished a spectacular paper on the Visigoths!), Latin, Italian, and four economics classes. My economics professors are all great, though I don't think my classmates are too crazy about me. Maybe I should take your advice and not volunteer so much.  
  
Well, I know what you're thinking. What happened to theology and the History of Christianity? I'm an economics major. Why the hell would I want to stress myself out over theology? Yes, I know. You told me so. I'm actually still taking theology, I just wanted to confuse you. It's an excellent class. You should take some theology, Leo. Seriously.  
  
And now you're asking what changed my mind about economics. I spent a lot of time thinking about it the first day I got here, after I met the girl I'm going to marry. I was at a diner and backed into a girl, causing her to spill soda on herself. I dropped my books and made a complete ass of myself. You would have loved it. Anyway, when I dropped my books, I dropped your letter under the table, and I was so flustered I guess I forgot to pick it up.  
  
So anyway, I offer to buy this girl another soda (I know!), and what I assumed to be her football player boyfriend turned around and took charge of the situation. I left, figuring that was that. Later that night, I went out for a smoke, and she came and found me. She had your letter, and she wanted to make sure I got it back! How wonderful is that?  
  
Her name is Abbey Garrett. She's a freshman at St. Mary's, studying Biology. She's Pre-Med. She's just a little shorter than I am (How miraculous!), with the most lovely brown hair and eyes. Quite a pair of legs, too. The fellow from the diner is her on-again off-again boyfriend, Ron Ehrlich. I don't really know what the situation is there, but Abbey and I have met at the diner three nights in a row and had the most amazing discussions. She's from Boston, and she absolutely adores Kennedy. She was excited that we volunteered at the office this summer. You'd love her, Leo.  
  
Abbey doesn't seem all that impressed with my grades or money or any of it. She seems most interested in me when I talk about beliefs. Ideals. She doesn't want to hear any of my lame conversation about school work. When we talk, it's like I'm in another world. When she's near me, it's like I'm in another world.  
  
Anyway, she's sort of on-again with Ron right now. It doesn't matter to me. I'll wait for her. Ron is a year older than us, and he's also an economics major. So I see him rather often in the building where most of my classes are. He shoots me some looks, Leo. The guy must be over six feet tall. He second string on the football team. He could crush me if he wanted to.  
  
I went straight to my advisor's office the first day of classes and switched my schedule around so I was taking the right classes to apply to the economics department next semester. There's no way I can live my life as a priest when I know that Abbey Garrett is out there in the world.  
  
She shared a cigar with me, Leo! This girl has something like I've never seen before. I know, I know. I was never paying attention before. But wait until you meet her, Leo. You'll see. I don't know how to describe it. She's not just any girl.  
  
  
  
I put the letter down and shake my head. There are still three more pages to read, and I have no idea who wrote me this letter! This is not Jed Bartlet! It's not at all possible. What the hell is he thinking? There is no way Jed will win this girl over an older, taller, and possibly smarter football player! This is Jed Bartlet we're talking about here. Jed would rather read than do anything else. Except maybe talk. He loves to talk. He'll talk to anyone that will listen. He's always been that way.  
  
I can't help but worry that he's going to chase after this girl for a few months, and get his heart broken so many times that he freaks out and has another identity crisis. He can't mess around like this at school. He's going to lose scholarships if he keeps changing majors, and there's no way his father is going to pay for Jed to run around in an indecisive haze at a Catholic university. It's just a fact of life.  
  
I was hoping I wouldn't have to drive anywhere until midterm break, but it seems like I'm gonna need to go up there and talk some sense into him. Or at least meet this girl that he's so head over heels for.  
  
**************************************************************************** *******  
  
My first two months at Notre Dame have been very memorable, very exciting, and extremely confusing. Midterms are over, and I'm going to Chicago for our three day break. I'm leaving tonight, but Leo won't be there until Friday evening sometime. I asked Abbey if she'd like to come and meet Leo, but she's going with Ron back to Boston for the break. We've become really close, Abbey and I, and I've told her on numerous ocassions that I'm in love with her. She won't give me a straight answer and maintains that I'm just a very good friend. Ron proposed marriage to her, and she won't answer him either.  
  
Lesser men would become frustrated with Abbey Garrett. But not I. No, I know that we're supposed to be together. Leo writes me and says I knew I was supposed to be a priest, too. This is different. I've known it since I first saw her.  
  
Abbey and I walking around South Bend after I finished my Latin midterm. She's telling me all about how completely pointless her botany class is. I'm in heaven. We stroll onto the lawn on my campus and I'm still trying to convince her to come and meet Leo with me. I can tell she wants to come. I can tell she loves me. She's just afraid. She's been dating Ron since she was a junior in high school and I guess her parents have all sorts of expectations. I don't blame her, in all honesty. It's never easy to disappoint your parents. It was kind of a hobby for me in high school, at least with my father. Mom is a completely different topic though. It breaks my heart to ever disappoint my mother.  
  
Imagine her parents' reaction if she brought me home for Christmas. She would go from tall, handsome, and charming Ron Ehrlich, of the Notre Dame football team, to short, quirky, arrogant Josiah Bartlet, of the Notre Dame debate team. Now I'm asking her to go to a movie with me. I tell her I'll just drive into Chicago tomorrow.  
  
She says Ron wanted to go to the movies tonight. I tell her I'll be far more fun than Ron. She agrees. She accepts! I ask her to wait for me while I run up and get my jacket, when I bump into my friend Manny, who lives on the same hall. He hands me a telegram that just came for me. While he's leaving he casts a sympathetic look over his shoulder.  
  
Abbey asks who the telegram is from; I laugh and tell her only Leo would send a telegram. I grab her hand and pull her under one of the lamps to one side of the lawn. I read the first sentence and know something is wrong.  
  
Jed,  
  
I've been in Chicago since last night. Mom died in her sleep on Tuesday, the service is tomorrow evening. Josie and Liz are asking for you, and I need you too. Aunt Mary is coming in from Atlanta tonight, and some people from church are staying with us, so it's already crowded in the apartment. Just get here as soon as you can.  
  
L.  
  
I suddenly become aware of just how cold it really is outside. I ball the telegram up in my fist and suddenly have the urge to scream. How could this happen to Leo? He's been through so much already. The anger passes quickly, and my eyes well up with tears.  
  
"Jed? What is it?"  
  
I try to calm myself down before I look up at her.  
  
"Leo's mother passed away," I say, as I look up at her.  
  
"Oh, Jed. I'm so sorry," she says. "She's in better place now, though. No more pain."  
  
It's completely silent outside. Most everyone has already gone home for midterm break.  
  
"Do you mind taking a rain check on the movie, Abbey? I really ought to get to Leo," I say. She smiles.  
  
"Of course I don't mind," she replies, and takes my hand in hers. "You're awfully upset, Jed. Are you sure you'll be all right driving?"  
  
"I'll be fine, Abbey. I've got to be strong for Leo now," I say. Abbey knows that I was very close to Leo's mother, but she doesn't say anything. She just sort of runs her thumb across the top of my hand.  
  
"Will you call the house tomorrow so I know you got there okay?" She's taken my other hand and she's writing her number on it with the pen from my shirt pocket.  
  
"Sure," I say. We stand there for another minute or two, and then I pull my hand away. "I need to get going."  
  
"Yeah," she says. I look at her again, and she's watching me skeptically.  
  
"I'll call you tomorrow," I say, and begin to walk away.  
  
"Jed," she says, and I turn around. She leans up and kisses me gently on the cheek. "Tell Leo I'm very sorry. Tell him I can't wait to meet him."  
  
My hand involuntarily flutters up to where she kissed me. I can't help it, I smile.  
  
"I will," I say, and pull myself away. When I round the corner to building in front of my dorm, I turn and catch one last glimpse of her, standing in the same spot, watching me.  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
I'd just returned to the dorm from my harrowing physics midterm when the telegram came from Josie. I don't even know how to explain my reaction. It sort of felt like I'd been sucker punched and had the wind knocked out of me. I laid down on my bed and curled up into a ball, hugging the blanket that she'd knitted for me before I left for school. She was dying, even then, and still knitting and cooking and fighting it. She was trying to be a normal mother. A mother not dying of cancer. She fought it to the very end.  
  
I felt like I'd cried for hours. When I finally got up, a sort of numbness had settled in. I went and explained to my Latin professor the situation, and he said I could make up the test when I returned. I went back to my dorm, packed up some things, and caught a bus to the train station. I'd arrived just in time for the last train of the day to Chicago.  
  
I don't remember much about the train ride. I imagine I did a lot of staring out the window. It was nearly midnight before I got into Chicago, and I walked home from the station.  
  
Mrs. McGinty from church was sitting in the living room when I came in, and I had startled her when my key turned in the door. She explained to me the details of the service and everything, and said my Aunt Mary was coming first thing in the morning. I nodded in reply I think. I barely even remember talking to her.  
  
Lizzie was asleep in my bed when I got upstairs. I opened the door to Josie's room, and she was reading by the light of her desk lamp. I cleared my throat to make her aware of my presence, and she lept out of bed and hugged me. She seems to be holding it together very well, even now. I think the service will make things more real for her.  
  
I talked to Josie for a while and then went in and checked on Lizzie. She was still asleep. I tiptoed through the room quietly to my closet and reached into the loose ceiling tile. A bottle of scotch was still there from the summer. I pulled it out of the ceiling, kissed Lizzie's forehead, and closed the door quietly behind me. I went into Mom's room, turned the radio on, and drank myself into an oblivion before falling asleep in her bed. I could still smell her. She always smelled like lavender.  
  
I woke up early this morning and sent Jed a telegram. He had exams all day today, so who knows when he'll get it. I picked up the newspaper and went back to the house, before Josie and Liz were even out of bed. Mrs. McGinty came again to get the girls for school. Josie got up and went; she's worried about her math class. Lizzie caught sight of me as she came downstairs and told Mrs. McGinty she was not going to school again today. The poor woman opened her mouth to argue, but I interrupted.  
  
"It's okay, Lizzie," I said, and she came and sat in my lap. "We can go pick out flowers for Mama. And I'll get you some lunch and we'll go throw the baseball around. Maybe see a movie," I said. Lizzie nodded into my shoulder, and Mrs. McGinty nodded at me.  
  
It's not easy to make final arrangements for your mother. I'm just picking out the flowers and things. And nothing with the funeral home. Lizzie and I are just walking through the street and looking at florists. Aunt Mary will take care of everything when she gets here this evening. Lizzie's holding my hand, something she grew out of by the time she was ten. She's going to be thirteen in June, and she's holding my hand as we walk through downtown Chicago.  
  
I can't imagine how scared she is right now. I'm an adult, I'm on my own, and I'm scared. Josie's being a regular soldier right now, bottling it all up. I don't know what to do with her. She needs to get it out. Maybe when Jed gets here I'll have some time to take Josie aside.  
  
I buy Lizzie a hot dog, and she announces that she wants to see Spartacus. Josie and Liz, as far as I've gathered, have big crushes on Laurence Olivier. Or is it Kirk Douglas? I can't ever remember. They both have so many pin-ups in their room it's hard to keep them all straight. Anyway, I take Lizzie to see Spartacus, and she loves it. We come out of the theatre into the garish daylight and she's bubbling over the whole picture. It was a pretty good movie, I guess. I especially loved how completely evil they make the government out to be. Olivier does a brilliant villain. Brilliant.  
  
Josie should be home from school now, and she's waiting for us on the stoop when we walk up. We go into the house together, where several of the women from church are inside beginning what appears to be a huge dinner. Aunt Mary will be here by supper time, so I guess it's good of them to cook. I appreciate all they're trying to do, but it gets annoying to come home and have different people in the house each time.  
  
Liz and Josie both settle down in front of the television, though Josie is doing homework while Liz watches some soap opera. I sit down in an arm chair, and I guess I fall asleep, because Josie's waking me up to tell me it's time to get Aunt Mary from the train station. Lizzie is asleep in front of the television. I tell Josie to help Mrs. McGinty set the table and get Lizzie up, and then I hail a cab and go to the train station.  
  
Something inside of me feels empty, and I know I'll feel a little better once Jed gets here. He should be here sometime after midnight, if he got the telegram before dinner. Jed forgets to eat on a regular basis when he's caught up in school work. Though, I think the fact that he normally takes Abbey to dinner has made nourishment more of a priority for him.  
  
I take a seat on a bench in the depot, which is surprisingly calm for this time of day. It's usually bustling with people leaving the city after a day's work. Today it's eerily quiet. I lean over and put my head in my hands and try to collect my thoughts. Aunt Mary isn't expecting a nephew in bits and pieces when she gets here. I'm Kate's son; and Kate was always the strong one. Aunt Frances was the oldest, the favorite; Mom was the second child, she was the mediator, the calm soul; Aunt Mary and Aunt Elizabeth are the two younger girls, the ones full of passion and personality. I smile as I think about the last time we were all together at the same time. It was Christmas in Boston when I was ten years old. It was the best Christmas I'd ever had.  
  
The depot is a little busier now and I hear the train coming in. I stand up as the train pulls to a stop and scan the crowd of people for my aunt. There are too many, and I'm too short to see over the taller people.  
  
"Leo," she says, and I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to face her, and smile. She hasn't changed since the last time I saw her. The same auburn hair and bright eyes. She pulls me into a hug before I can say anything.  
  
"I'm glad you're here," I say, and she pats my back. I collect her bags and we hail a cab in front of the station.  
  
  
  
Josie and Liz were ecstatic to see Aunt Mary when we got home. We had a nice dinner, and Mrs. McGinty wrote down a page's worth of information for my aunt about funeral arrangements. Aunt Mary thanked her at least a dozen times. When Mrs. McGinty finally left, Aunt Mary sent the girls upstairs to bathe and get homework done. Josie, of course, had been done with her assignments for hours, so she came back downstairs to play checkers with me for a while. Aunt Mary fixed herself a strong drink with liquor that my mother had apparently hidden in the basement for entertaining. She fixed me one, too, and sat down with Lizzie to help her with homework.  
  
I let Josie win a few games of checkers, and then asked her if she wanted to learn to play chess. She refused, like she always does, claiming I'd be mad if she ever beat me. That's my sister. Never underestimates herself. Lizzie finished up her homework and wanted to play checkers, so Josie gave up her seat and went to sit with Aunt Mary and read. Lizzie is an excellent checkers player. I have to really keep my guard up.  
  
Aunt Mary sent the girls up to bed around ten. We talked for a while about getting things done in the morning; cleaning the house, finalizing everything with the florist, meeting with Father Joe at church. The service is at six tomorrow evening. My mother's funeral is at six tomorrow evening.  
  
We talked about school for a while, too, and how things are going to work after I go back. Josie and Liz are going to Atlanta, and they'll start school there as soon as possible. Aunt Mary said we'd work out the money so I could get down there for Christmas. We'd make some money selling Aunt Frances' house, and Aunt Mary says we'll use it to make sure I get to see my sisters grow up.  
  
She goes up to bed around half past eleven. She's going to sleep in Mom's room. I go upstairs around midnight and check on Josie. She's up reading, and she simply smiles at me as I look in at her. I close the door to the room and open the door to Lizzie's room, which is empty. Then I remember Mom telling me in a letter that Lizzie has made a habit out of sleeping in my room, claiming it makes her feel closer to me. I was ready to cry when I read that, and when I peek into my room and see her curled up in my bed, my breath catches in my throat. I can't imagine not being able to see them whenever I want. I just can't imagine it.  
  
I go back downstairs and resist the urge to pour myself another drink. I want to be sober when Jed gets here. I want to be able to talk to him without the look he gives me when I'm drunk. I've just gotten comfortable in an arm chair when I hear a soft knock at the front door. As I get up to walk to the door, I glimpse out the window and see that it's raining.  
  
The door opens before I get there; I guess I forgot to lock it. And there's my best friend, standing in the front hall, soaked to the skin. He needs a haircut.  
  
"I had to park around the block," he says, setting his suitcase down. I smile at him. And in that instant, everything sort of crystallizes in my mind. I guess the strong Leo mask that has been suffocating me all day sort of cracks, and I let out a single anguished sob before turning away from Jed. I don't ever like him to see me cry. I don't like anyone to see me cry.  
  
I feel like I'm going to be sick from crying so hard. And then I feel Jed's hand on the back my neck.  
  
"Leo," he says. "You don't have to hide from me."  
  
This small statement, which I've heard dozens of times before, makes me feel a little stronger. I try and catch my breath, and calm myself down, but his hand is still on my neck. My best friend is here; he's saving the day again. He's always here. This realization makes me sob again, and Jed pulls me into his arms. I bury my head in his shoulder and cry like ... some ... grandmother. It's a few minutes before I realize he's crying too.  
  
And then I realize that Jed has lost someone as well. She wasn't just my mother. She was a friend, a sister, an aunt. I'm not alone in my tremendous grief. This thought makes me feel even a little stronger than before.  
  
We both finally dry up after a few minutes and give each other equally watery grins. I've missed him.  
  
Jed goes into the basement to change out of his wet clothes, and I fix him something to eat. We sit at the kitchen table in amicable silence; the kind that feels like conversation. He finishes his sandwich, pushes his plate away, and looks up at me.  
  
"Abbey kissed me," he says, grinning. And I laugh. We're both laughing hysterically now, for no good reason. I'm going to be exhausted by the time I get off this emotional roller coaster.  
  
Josie and Liz both come into the kitchen, claiming I've woken them up, though I know Josie wasn't asleep anyway. And then they see Jed and nearly tackle him. All four of us are laughing now, and it feels so good to see my sisters laugh. It makes me feel like we're all going to come out of this. We're all going to move on and be okay.  
  
The four of us sat in the kitchen and talked for a while, before I told the girls they needed to get back to bed. You'd think they'd be less hostile, it was nearly two in the morning. And they're the ones who are going to be cleaning tomorrow morning while Aunt Mary and I are at church with Father Joe and getting everything else squared away.  
  
Josie kissed the top of my head and Jed's, and trudged back up the stairs. Lizzie wanted someone to tuck her in, and she's always had a strong attachment to Jed. He picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her upstairs. I could hear them laughing from my seat in the kitchen.  
  
It's been a while since Jed took Lizzie upstairs, so I make my way up to check on them. I crack the door to my room to find it empty. The light in Lizzie's room is on, and I ease the door open to quite a sight. Jed is asleep, flat on his back, arm around Lizzie, who has fallen asleep with her little head on his chest. I hope he got her to talk a little bit. Jed and Lizzie have always had a sort of bond. Everything seems to be more normal with him back in the house. Of course, things won't ever be completely normal again.  
  
I turn the light out in Lizzie's room and close the door. I notice light still showing under Josie's door, and I peek in on her. She's got photographs all over the bed, and she's completely engrossed in them. I clear my throat to let her know I'm in the room, and I startle her. She looks up at me, and she's been crying. Finally. I sit down next to her on the bed, and she rests her head on my shoulder.  
  
"I don't know what I'm going to do without her, Leo," she says, barely above a whisper.  
  
"We're going to get through it. It's what Mom always did, Josie," I say, and begin to cry again. Josie picks up the photographs and sets them on the floor, and then pushes me back until I'm laying down. Then she curls up next to me and rubs my back. Mom used to always rub my back when I was sick or upset.  
  
"We'll get through it, Leo," she says. I drift off into a restless sleep as Josie rubs my back. 


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: I've caught the angst bug. This is end of October, 1960. Next chapter will be Christmas 1963.  
  
Feedback: love it. Here or jedbartlet@another.com  
  
  
  
Jed and the girls are already downstairs when I wake to the smell of french toast and the sound of friendly conversation from the kitchen. I always tend to sleep deeper and more soundly when I go to bed sober. I feel like I haven't been to sleep at all, though. This whole week seems like some sort of surreal dream.  
  
It's very early. The sky is just beginning to light up over the city. Jed is standing in front of the stove, his shirt unbuttoned and his hair tousled. Lizzie comes over and gives me a hug as I come into the kitchen, and Josie smiles at me. I still can't believe that I'm not going to be able to see my sisters whenever I want.  
  
"Jed, you need a haircut," Lizzie says as she sits back down at the kitchen table. "Josie and I will take you to the barber this morning after we've got the house clean."  
  
"I don't know, Liz," Jed say, not turning from the stove. "I was thinking about growing it out."  
  
"Oh, gross," says Josie. Jed turns and winks at me, and then serves the first slices of french toast to the girls.  
  
  
  
  
  
I come back downstairs after showering and getting dressed in the nicest clothes I have. Aunt Mary is dressed in all black, but the smile she gives me as I enter the room makes the grieving clothes seem inappropriate somehow. Aunt Mary has always been so cheerful and happy. It was strange when Aunt Frances died, and it's even stranger now.  
  
"Aunt Elizabeth is going to be here shortly," she says to me as she gathers her purse and jacket. "She just phoned to let me know the train is stopped in Davenport but she should be here by lunch time. I've given Jed the information so he and the girls can meet her at the station."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," I say. It's still raining outside, which is appropriate enough I guess. Josie and Liz have already started cleaning the house, and Jed is in the shower.  
  
"Josie," my aunt calls into the kitchen. Josie peeks around the corner. "We're going to meet with Father Joe and get Leo a suit," she says. I wasn't expecting her to buy me a new suit. My old one is a little snug, but it would do just fine. "We'll be back for lunch and then I'll take you girls out for dresses."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Josie says, and returns to her cleaning. The house is going to be full of people tonight, and we'll have to do all this cleaning again tomorrow.  
  
I hold the door open for Aunt Mary and follow her up the sidewalk until she stops to hail a cab. Mom always liked to walk to St. Clement's unless it was raining or snowing. I think it reminded her of Boston.  
  
I have always liked Father Joe. He's just a few years older than Mom was, and he's always very real with me. He never likes to sugar coat anything. When my church attendance steadily dropped off before graduation, he came to the house one evening and made sure I was doing all right. He's a genuine good person. And Mom always adored him.  
  
He's walking around the sanctuary straightening prayer books when Aunt Mary and I enter. He signals for us to follow him and we walk through the sanctuary back to his office. It's a small, tidy room and it sort of smells like peppermint. I wonder why that is.  
  
Aunt Mary and Father Joe talk for a while, and I try to pay attention, but nothing really seems real. I look around the room at all the books and papers and icons on the walls. I try to picture Jed in an office like this, but all I get is a picture of him with his feet propped up on the desk, smoking a cigarette and fanning the smoke out an open window above his head. This thought makes me smile, and I guess Father Joe notices.  
  
"Leo?" He says, and I sit up straighter in the chair.  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"How are you doing?"  
  
"I'm all right, father. I'm pretty tired."  
  
"I can imagine. Did you finish your midterms?"  
  
"No, sir. I'll finish them when I get back to school," I say, and he looks at me with sympathy.  
  
"Is Jed still studying for priesthood?"  
  
"No, sir," I smile. "He met a girl and he swears up and down that they're meant to be married. He's going to apply to the economics department next semester."  
  
"Jed would have been a good priest. He has the love for people," Father Joe smiles. "He's smart, too."  
  
"Yes, sir," I say.  
  
"Would you like to read tonight, Leo?"  
  
I pause. I read at Aunt Frances' funeral, and it was difficult. I wasn't even that close to Aunt Frances, but the emotion of the room is sort of overwhelming when you're standing in front of everyone.  
  
"I'd like to, father, but I'm not sure I can," I say. "I think Josie might be able to get through it better than I could."  
  
"I was thinking you could do the first reading, and Josie and Liz could do the second one together," Father Joe says. I nod. I can do it. Nothing is impossible.  
  
"Do you have pallbearers, sir?"  
  
"I have four. You and Jed make six," he says. Aunt Mary reaches over and rubs my arm.  
  
"Jed is going to give the eulogy, father," she says. "I feel like she needs someone to say things in a way that none of us can put them. Jed speaks from the heart. His words come effortlessly. Kate always loved hearing Jed read or speak."  
  
I nod. Jed never failed to make Mom smile, even if he was just reading some blurb in the newspaper.  
  
  
  
Aunt Mary nearly drags me into the store to get me a suit. I tried to tell her that my other suit is fine, but she tells me I look like an idiot. I try on several before finding a nice black one. It fits just right. She also buys me black suspenders and a black neck tie. Lucky for me I bought new dress shoes before I went to Michigan, or we'd be in the shoe store for the next hour.  
  
We get back to the house around one, and Aunt Elizabeth is in the kitchen making sandwiches. I poke my head around the corner, and she giggles as she gets a look at me. I haven't seen Aunt Elizabeth since Aunt Frances died. She lives in Maryland. Her husband, Uncle Ray, is a navy officer.  
  
"Oh, Leo, you've grown into your age since the last time I saw you," she says and hugs me. "You must be about thirty-two now, right?"  
  
"No, no. I'm just nineteen now," I smile, and then take a look around the house. Everything is spotless.  
  
"Josie! Lizzie! Come get your lunch," she shouts in the direction of the ceiling. "Are you hungry, Leo?"  
  
"Not really," I say. I haven't been hungry since Wednesday. Josie and Lizzie come down the stairs, fresh from the showers. They've braided each others' hair. "Lizzie, you've even got freckles on the back of your neck," I tease as she walks by. She sticks her tongue out at me and sits down at the table.  
  
Aunt Mary comes in and Aunt Elizabeth gives her a big hug. They all sit down at the table to eat.  
  
"Where's Jed?" I say, just noticing he hasn't come down.  
  
"He was going to get a newspaper, I think," Lizzie says. "He wanted to check up on Jack. The last debate is tonight, you know."  
  
I'd completely forgotten about the debate.  
  
"Make sure you compliment his haircut, Leo," Josie says. "It's completely different."  
  
Just then, Jed walks in the front door, and shakes some of the rain water of the top of his head. His hair looks exactly the same as it always does.  
  
"Nice haircut," I say. "Josie said you tried something completely different."  
  
"I did! My part is farther over," he says. I roll my eyes.  
  
"Don't you own an umbrella? You're tracking water all over the place," I say.  
  
"Umbrellas are completely useless," he says. "Besides, every time I bother to use one, it breaks. I have terrible luck with umbrellas."  
  
"Get a paper?"  
  
"What? Oh, no. I forgot," he says, and sort of blushes  
  
.  
  
"Well, what were you doing?"  
  
"I went down the street to use the pay phone. I told Abbey I'd call her today," Jed smiles.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And what?"  
  
"How is she?"  
  
"Well, she's not home yet. I guess it didn't occur to me that she and Ron were taking the train into Boston. She won't be home until around six I'd imagine," Jed says.  
  
"Oh," I say.  
  
"I talked to her mother though. She didn't seem too pleased," Jed smiled even bigger.  
  
"What are you smiling about?" I sit down as he messes with his hair in the reflection of the window.  
  
"Abbey's afraid of her parents. She's been on and off with Ron since she was fifteen, you know. I think she's summoning her strength and she's going to tell her parents they can't boss her around anymore," Jed says. He's positively glowing. It's really kinda scary. "She loves me, Leo."  
  
"Yes, well, how could you not?" I say sarcastically. He whaps the back of my head.  
  
"I'm serious. I watch her with Ron. And I watch her with me. She's different with me. She's ... I don't know ... she's more alive. She's fiery, she's opinionated, and she's beautiful. And with Ron, back in Boston, it's sort of like she's the window dressing for Ron's perfect life. She deserves more than that, Leo. She deserves someone who's not going to smother her. Someone who will take care of her when she's needs it, but in the meantime will let her take care of herself."  
  
"And you're that person," I say, giving him my questioning look.  
  
"Yes," he says, and he's completely serious. I never thought I'd live to see the day that Jed Bartlet got this ridiculous over a girl. He barely knew they existed until September.  
  
"Well, okay," I say. I hear dishes clang in the sink and Aunt Mary telling the girls to get ready to go out.  
  
"They're going to buy new dresses," Jed says.  
  
"I know," I sigh. "I can't remember the last time either of them got a new dress."  
  
"Yeah," Jed sighs too. We sit there and watch as my aunts usher my sisters out the door, telling us they'll be home by three.  
  
"So the last debate is on tonight," I say, after they leave.  
  
"Yeah," Jed says.  
  
  
  
  
  
I'm startled when Jed puts his hand on my shoulder at the end of the service. I barely got through my reading, and I  
  
had to bite my lip not to sob outright when Josie and Lizzie were reading. The mass was fine. Father Joe always does a good job. Jed began to speak and I felt like I was reliving my childhood. The way he spoke of my mother honestly made me jealous that I couldn't do the same. I don't have the gift of speech like he does.  
  
I must have been completely caught up in some memory when Jed puts his hand on my shoulder. The pipe organ is swelling in the background, and it's time to carry my mother out of the church. He sort of holds on to my arm as we walk up the aisle and across the altar. I suppose he thinks my knees are going to give up on me. Sometimes I think he's reading my mind.  
  
Jed and I pick up the front two corners. The weight of the casket surprises me. My mother had wasted away to practically nothing, and I suppose that was what I was prepared to pick up. Liz has buried her head into Josephine's side, and I can't look Josie in the eye. Aunt Mary and Aunt Elizabeth are standing behind them, watching me with a mixture of what I assume is sorrow and pride. We walk solemnly out of the church, and I am so caught up in a memory of my mother teaching me the Lord's Prayer that I'm surprised to be at the back of the hurse.  
  
Jed starts to lower his corner, and realizes I haven't moved. Part of me wants to just stand here forever, holding her. He reaches out and squeezes my arm, and I relent. I put my mother down in the back of a hurse and help the other men slide the casket into the vehicle. Then Jed has collected the scattered pieces of his best friend and we get in the car to go to the cemetery for the Rite of Commital.  
  
It's cold and windy outside, and as we stand next to the dark, empty place in which my mother's body will be spending eternity, I suddenly become aware that it's still raining. Father Joe is giving the rite quickly, and the next thing I know Lizzie and Josie have taken both my hands and we're throwing dirt on the casket. I feel like I would throw up if there was anything on my stomach.  
  
  
  
When we arrive back at the house, it's full of people I probably should know but don't remember. Everyone is eating and speaking quietly. I hear a few people recall how graceful my mother was; how eloquent and soft-spoken. They say it's amazing that she produced children that are so alike and so completely different. Josie and Liz are both slim and graceful, but hardly soft-spoken. Sometimes I feel like I didn't inherit anything from her. I feel like a carbon copy of my father, which scares me more than anything else in the world.  
  
  
  
**************************************************************************** ************  
  
We open the door to Leo's house, and it's packed with people. I knew that Kate McGarry was adored by everyone she ever had contact with ... but I'm surprised. I didn't realize she'd been in contact with so many people.  
  
I can tell as soon as we open the door that Leo is overwhelmed. Josie and Lizzie are making their way through the room, accepting sympathy from people they know from church; people Leo hasn't seen for almost a year. I point Leo in the direction of the living room and then I head for the liquor.  
  
It's extremely hard for me to admit that a drink will help Leo the most right now. My father always says 'No one ever said the truth won't hurt.' I go into the kitchen and get the glass that Leo likes. I've never figured out why he likes it so much. It's very heavy, and if he drops it it will shatter. But it's his favorite, so I make sure he has it. I take care not to chip the ice as I make his drink, as he maintains this is important as well. I fix myself a considerably smaller drink and make my way through the crowd to the living room.  
  
He's sitting on the sofa, staring at nothing. I hand him the drink, and he takes a long swallow. Then I flip the television on, and we don't speak as we watch Jack make Nixon look like an ignorant school child. It's amazing to see him, to hear him weave his verbal tapestry. I don't even know if Leo hears any of it, but he's looking at the television. He's soaked to the skin, though I don't think he notices that either.  
  
"Do you want another drink, Leo?"  
  
He doesn't answer, but reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. A flask suddenly appears, and tonight it doesn't bother me. It will later, but not tonight. Tonight he can have whatever he wants. To see Leo in pain is to experience the pain myself.  
  
I open my mouth to tell him I'm going down the street to use the phone, but I don't know that it would matter to him right now. I leave him there on the sofa, turning once as I open the front door to look at him. He looks up at me, nods, and turns back to the television.  
  
The rain in Chicago feels heavier than rain anywhere else. Maybe it's because of the wind. Either way, it hurts as I walk up the street to the corner drug store. The man behind the counter gives me a look. I imagine I do look out of place. It's after eight on a Friday evening, I'm in a black suit, and I'm soaked. I nod at him and make my way through the store to the phone.  
  
It rings a couple times at Abbey's before her father answers.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hello, may I please speak to Abbey?"  
  
There's silence on the line before I hear him bellow to Abbey. More silence.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey," I say, and I imagine I'm grinning like an idiot as soon as I hear her voice.  
  
"Hey," she says, and she sounds like she's smiling.  
  
"Did you have a good trip?"  
  
"Not particularly. Ron and I fought the whole way here on the train," she sighs. "And apparently he'd called and let my parents know he'd proposed, because as soon as I got in the car at the train station, my mom was searching my hand for a ring."  
  
"Oh," I say. I'm not sure where this is leading.  
  
"Ron thinks I'm spending too much time with you, Jed."  
  
I don't know what to say to that.  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"Not in a million years," she says. "I had a long discussion with my mother this evening. I told her I wasn't planning on accepting Ron's proposal. I told her I want to be a doctor. That's what means the most to me right now. My mother told me the only reason they sent me to school was so Ron and I could be close to each other. She expected us to marry, and me to drop out and start having children. They never expected me to graduate."  
  
"Abbey-"  
  
"But I'm going to graduate, Jed. I'm going to graduate, I'm going to go to Harvard Medical School, and I'm going to start spending my time with who I really want to spend my time with."  
  
"Your botany study group?"  
  
"No, Jed. I want to spend time with you. You've become my best friend since I met you. I've never been treated like an equal by a man. You don't laugh when I tell you I'm going to Harvard Medical School. You don't laugh when I tell you I'm going to be a surgeon. You believe in me," she cuts me off. "You believe in me, and I'm sorry I've been too afraid to see it. I'm sorry I've taken so long to tell you how much you mean to me."  
  
"You were worth the wait, Abigail," I say. I wish she were here right now. "Easily worth the wait."  
  
The line is quiet for a minute. I don't really know what to say.  
  
"How is Leo?"  
  
"It's been hard for him today. I left him watching the debate. He's drinking," I say.  
  
"You should get back to him, Jed. He needs you right now."  
  
"Yeah," I say.  
  
"When are you going back to South Bend?"  
  
"I'll be leaving Sunday afternoon. I'm going to help the girls get packed and make sure Leo gets on the train all right," I say. "I should be back by ten or eleven."  
  
"Okay," she says. "I'll see you soon. Tell Leo I said hello."  
  
"I will," I say. "Good night, Abbey."  
  
"Good night, Jed."  
  
  
  
  
  
Leo is asleep on the sofa when I get back to the house. The debate is over. His flask is on the coffee table, and I pick it up to verify that it's empty. It is. There are still a few people talking with Mary and Elizabeth in the other room; Josie and Liz must be upstairs. I walk through the living room to the kitchen and fix myself another drink.  
  
  
  
Josie wakes me up. I'm on the floor in the living room, and Leo is sitting up on the couch. It's very sunny outside. I must have fallen asleep in here last night while I was watching Leo.  
  
"We've got to start packing, Jed. Then we have to put all the furniture in storage until summer. Aunt Mary says we'll come out and sell it after school ends in June," Josie says, and sits next to Leo on the couch.  
  
"Good morning," he says to me. I smile at him.  
  
"Abbey told me to tell you hello," I reply. He smiles.  
  
"Have a good talk?"  
  
I nod, then look at Josie. I don't know why I'm uncomfortable talking about Abbey in front of her; God knows we've talked about everything else. She rolls her eyes and leaves the room.  
  
"She broke up with Ron and told her parents off," I say. "She said she wants to spend more time with me. She says I'm the first man that's ever treated her like an equal."  
  
"Do you realize that you're grinning like some sort of derranged ... something?"  
  
"I see all that liquor has done nothing to your vocabulary, Leopold," I smile.  
  
"Shut up," he says.  
  
  
  
**************************************************************************** ******************  
  
  
  
The house is empty now. It's really quite a depressing sight. I've never seen an empty house before. When Mom moved us from Boston to Chicago, we just packed what we could carry and left. I guess she wanted us out as soon as humanly possible. We finished the school year after Dad died, of course, but then we were gone. The last day we were in Boston, the smell of gunpowder was still in my nose. It took moving to a different state for me to get a breath of fresh air.  
  
Aunt Elizabeth left this morning. She stays busy being an officer's wife. Before she left, she pressed an envelope on me, which contained a hundred dollars cash. I'll give it to Josie before I go back to Michigan. I don't need it.  
  
We spent most of the morning packing up the girls' things. One of the men from church brought a truck after lunch, and we moved the furniture and all the things that wouldn't make it on the train into a storage shed over in Forest Park. I kept the quilt off Mom's bed, and the box of family pictures. There's plenty of room for that stuff in my dorm room.  
  
Aunt Mary and the girls are staying in a hotel tonight in midtown. She's taking us all out to dinner, and then I'm taking Jed out and getting him drunk. I have no idea when I'm going to see him after I get on the train tomorrow. I don't have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving now, and hopefully I'll be in Atlanta for Christmas. I imagine Jed will go to Boston with Abbey if things go as he's planning them to go.  
  
  
  
Dinner was very extravagant, but very good nonetheless. I kiss the girls goodnight, and Aunt Mary tells us to behave. If we were cartoon characters, halos would have appeared above my head and Jed's as she looked at us. Her expressions softens, she kisses my forehead, and they leave the restaurant.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"Healy's," I reply simply. We make our way out of the restaurant and set off for the west side.  
  
We arrive, and Jed looks skeptical. I open the door and gesture for him to go in first. Noise spills out into the street from the dark, smoky room. I walk up to the bar and order two pints of Guinness. Jed is sort of hanging by the door, and I shoot him a look. He saunters over, careful not to bump into anyone or make eye contact. I roll my eyes at him as he sits next to me at the bar.  
  
"No one's going to bite, Jed," I say.  
  
"I don't know, Leo. That fellow in the corner looks upset," he answers. I laugh at him.  
  
"Shut up and drink," I say.  
  
  
  
The bartender is a nice gentlemen. He warns us of last call for a good twenty minutes before throwing us out of the bar. Jed is completely hammered. My work here is done.  
  
He's babbling on and on about he won't let me be alone on Thanksgiving; he's going to take me to Boston with him. He says if Abbey's parents don't want us, we'll go to the Landinghams. He says he hopes Delores will be in Boston for Thanksgiving, and as soon as he mentions her name his entire mood changes. He tells me how homesick he is; how he wishes he were a better son; how he wishes his father didn't hate him so much.  
  
He's had too much to drink. It's a long walk back to midtown, and we make our way into the hotel where the girls and Aunt Mary are staying. I sit Jed down on a couch in the lobby, and then sit next to him. I don't have the heart to wake Aunt Mary and get into the room. We're both drunk, and I'm sure neither of the girls are in the mood for it.  
  
"I love you, Leo. I don't tell you that enough, but I do. You're my best friend. You're my brother. I wouldn't be me if I'd never met you," Jed mumbles, and rests his head on my shoulder. I slip my arm around his shoulder.  
  
"I love you too, Jed. Now go to sleep," I say.  
  
I sit up all night and listen to the sound of his breathing. My arm has long since fallen asleep when the hotel starts to come back to life around six. I try not to think about the fact that I'm putting my sisters on a train to Atlanta in a few hours and I'm not entirely sure when I'll see them again.  
  
I hear Jed groan next to me, and I poke him in the side.  
  
"Wake up, jackass. You're going to be terribly hungover and you need to get some food on your stomach," I say. He starts mumbling something about punching me in the mouth, and I poke him again. "I'm serious. You're going to be sorry when you start driving if you don't get up and eat."  
  
He sits up and stretches. My arm falls off his shoulder, completely asleep. It takes a couple minutes of his whining before I start to get the worst set of pins and needles I've ever had.  
  
We straggle out of the hotel and down the street to a bakery. I order us both coffee and half a coffee cake. We sit down outside on the curb, and listen to the city come to life as we eat.  
  
"I'm never drinking again," he says after a while. I laugh at him again.  
  
  
  
  
  
Aunt Mary and my sisters are eating breakfast in the hotel restaurant when Jed and I return. Josephine takes one look at us and shakes her head. Lizzie giggles. Jed's hair is all over the place, and I imagine we both look pretty rumpled.  
  
"Have a nice evening, boys?"  
  
"Poor Jed swears he'll never drink again," I say.  
  
"It's a wonder you're Catholic at all, Josiah," Aunt Mary says. Jed shrugs and looks over at me.  
  
"Is everything all packed?" I ask, and look at my sisters. I can't believe they're leaving.  
  
"Yes, Leo. All we have to do is get it in the cab and get it on the train," Aunt Mary says. "Stop worrying. We'll be fine."  
  
It's my turn to shrug. The girls are quiet this morning. I guess none of us really know what to say. We've never been in this situation before. I always knew when I'd see them again. It's up in the air now. There's no telling if there will be money for the train in December.  
  
  
  
Before I know it, we're at the train station. All my stuff is still in a cart, and Jed's standing next to it while I help load everything onto the train. Aunt Mary gives me a hug and promises that we'll be together at Christmas. Then she goes over and hugs Jed, and then gets onto the train. The girls get off the train after getting their things squared away, and go to Jed. He hugs them both, and I hear him promise to write. He promises them that I'll be in Atlanta for Christmas.  
  
"Leo," Lizzie says. I was so caught up in thought that I didn't realize they were standing in front of me.  
  
"Come here," I reply. Both of them wrap their arms around me, and I squeeze as hard as I possibly can. Lizzie is crying into my coat, and as soon as I look at her I'm going to cry too. "I promise to write you. And I want you to write all the time. And telegram if you need anything. I'll try to call once a week. Please be good. Please study hard and mind Aunt Mary."  
  
Josie is crying now too. I look across the platform at Jed, and he looks like he's about to lose it himself.  
  
"Josephine, you take care of Elizabeth," I whisper into her ear. "It's going to be hard, but you can do it. You're going to be fine." She nods into my shoulder. "I love you very much, Josie. Please remember that."  
  
She backs away and looks at me. Then she leans up and kisses my cheek. I squeeze her hand as she starts to walk towards the train. Lizzie is still crying into my shirt. I get down on my knees and look her in the eyes. Sure enough, one look at her and I lose it. I bury my face in her jacket for a minute until I collect myself.  
  
"Lizzie, you take care of Josie. She's going to be working very hard at the new school, and she'll probably worry a lot. But I want you to make sure she doesn't worry too much, okay?" She nods at me. "You keep up your school work, and mind Aunt Mary. I promise to write you, Lizzie."  
  
"I'm going to miss you, Leo. You have to come for Christmas," she manages in between little sobs. "It won't be Christmas without you."  
  
"I promise," I say. She looks at me, tears streaming, and smiles just a little. "I love you."  
  
"I love you too, Leopold," she says, and hugs me very tightly. She kisses the top of my head, and then she too makes her way to the train.  
  
I stand up and watch as the train pulls out of the station. When I can no longer see it, I turn around and look at Jed. He's standing in exactly the same spot, watching me. I make my way back over slowly, and we sit on a bench and wait for my train.  
  
  
  
TBC 


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Notes: Christmas, 1963 through June 1964.  
  
Feedback: is divine; here or jedbartlet@another.com  
  
  
  
It's really hard to believe I haven't seen Jed since my mother died. There's really no explanation for it. I've been busy working and sending money to Josie at school while trying to save up for both of us to get to Atlanta on holidays. Jed's been busy graduating Notre Dame in four years with bachelors' and masters' degrees in economics. And preparing to go to the London School of Economics right after graduation in June. And spending every free moment with Abbey. We just haven't crossed paths.  
  
We've written tons of letters. After I started working I moved off campus. With your own apartment comes your own telephone, so we talk all the time. I've talked to Abbey on the phone and we've even written to each other a couple times, but I've yet to meet the girl that so completely consumes my best friend's being. She sounds absolutely charming on the phone, and her letters are very coherent. Jed sent me a picture of the two of them, which sits on my desk. She's beautiful. I'm looking out the window of this train and I can hardly wait to get to Atlanta, because they're both going to be waiting for me at the station.  
  
It's been a really rough month for Jed and I. I suppose it's been rough on the rest of America, too, but we've taken it especially hard. I was in a calculus class when someone ran in from the hall screaming "The president has been shot!" I made my way to a television in a teacher's lounge, and by half past one they'd pronounced him dead. Jed and I talked on the phone for six hours that day, and decided we had to be together this Christmas. And I'm glad we decided to do this, because I've got some big news for him. News he's probably going to hate me for. What I'm going to tell Jed will make or break our friendship.  
  
We've been arguing heatedly over the phone since the news made it back to the States about Diem being assassinated at the beginning of November. I mentioned in passing to Jed that Jack should seriously consider sending a larger force into Vietnam. Jed went positively berserk. He yelled over the phone to me about how Vietnam's problems should stay in Vietnam. He couldn't believe I thought it was our duty to go over there and defend liberty. Or create it; it's still unclear to me what the hell has been going on in Vietnam. I'm sure that we've been getting about two percent of the complete story.  
  
I've decided to enlist. In fact, I've already enlisted. I ship off to San Antonio on the sixth of June, four days after I graduate, for basic training at Lackland Air Force Base. And I haven't told him yet. Because he's going to hate me for it. I've spent weeks trying to put my feelings into words for him. I've been trying to explain the sense of duty I feel. It looks like Johnson will be committing more troops in the new year, as much as I'd like to believe he won't. I talk big to Jed about defending liberty, but I'm just as scared as anyone else. Newspaper reports from Vietnam are sketchy at best. It sounds like one big mess.  
  
People are starting to move around as the train comes to a stop. Lizzie wrote me to say it's been uncommonly cold in Atlanta this winter, so I pull a stocking cap over my head. I've never kept my hair very long; my father insisted on the crew cut. But I even cut off the longer part at the top. I don't know; I went through some sort of self-mutilation phase in my grief over President Kennedy, and in that phase I shaved my head completely bald. It's grown out some by now, today, the twentieth of December. In fact, this is the longest my hair has ever been if memory serves. I actually have to splash some water on it in the morning and comb it a little. It's still not as long as Jed's usual prep school cut, however.  
  
The train stops completely and I pull my suitcase off the luggage rack above me, sling my backpack over my shoulder, and step out of my compartment. The depot is incredibly crowded, as it should be this time of year. Lizzie's right, it is colder than it's been the past two Christmases. I jump into the air to try and catch sight of Jed. I don't see him. I move over against the wall until the depot clears out somewhat, and then step back out onto the platform.  
  
This place smells like Christmas, if that's possible. People are smiling and friendly. A sudden wave of happiness and relief washes over me as I look around the platform. I still don't spot Jed, and wonder if he's got a hat on or something. I get ready to leave the platform and hail a cab when I see her. She's looking around the depot calmly, and, judging by the look on her face, seems to have the same satisfied feeling I do. She's wearing a red scarf and a black wool dress coat, and her hair is pulled back from her face. Jed's right; she's beautiful. I make my way through the thinning crowd on the platform and stop beside her.  
  
"You must be looking for a devastatingly handsome man from Michigan," I say. She turns to look at me and smiles.  
  
"Leo," she says, and opens her arms for a hug. "I feel like I've known you as long as Jed."  
  
"And I'm sorry I didn't meet you before he did," I say. "Speaking of the devil, where is he?"  
  
"Liz wanted to take him Christmas shopping, so I volunteered to come meet you. He said you wouldn't mind."  
  
"Not at all," I say, and offer her my arm. "Let's get a cab."  
  
  
  
  
  
We pull up to the house, which looks exactly the same as it did the last time I was here. A simple wreath on the door, and the Christmas tree shining out the front window. I open the front door for Abbey and follow her inside, where I'm immediately tackled by Lizzie.  
  
"Leo!"  
  
"Hey, Liz!" I give her a big squeeze. "How are you?"  
  
"Well, I'm fine. However, Jed and Josie have been at each other's throats all day," she says. I look at Abbey, who nods her assent. I imagined this would happen. Josie has become quite the feminist in her first two years at school. And Jed, though a strong supporter of equality, is easily annoyed by women he claims are 'All About Eve.' Jed told me he envisioned Josie single-handedly eliminating the male species from the planet. And, as I hear their voices raised from upstairs, I realize he may be right.  
  
"I think she's great," Abbey says. Lizzie rolls her eyes.  
  
"The novely wears off after an hour of shopping with the two of them," she replies. Abbey laughs and looks towards the dining room, where my aunt is standing watching us.  
  
I walk over and give her a hug.  
  
"It's good to have you home, Leo," she smiles. Grey is just beginning to creep into the wisps of hair at the sides of her face.  
  
"It's good to be here," I smile.  
  
"Dinner will be ready shortly," Aunt Mary smiles. I nod and join Abbey and Liz in the living room. As soon as I sit down, I hear a loud crash from upstairs and Jed screams.  
  
"Oh for God's sake, Josie!" He slams the door and thunders down the stairs. I stand up and lean against the door frame, waiting for him to come into the living room.  
  
"Lizzie, would you please go explain to your sister that -" He stops as he sees me in the door. His furrowed brow immediately relaxes and a wide grin replaces the frown. "Leopold McGarry!" He sort of announces my name like I'll be competing in the triathlon or something. Then he pulls me into a rough hug and tousles my hair. "Getting kind of long, isn't it Leo?"  
  
"No, not really," I smile and hug him again. "It's so good to see you."  
  
"And to see you," he grins. "And I see you've met Abbey," and the grin gets wider. If I wasn't so insanely happy to see him, I'd definitely mock him.  
  
"I have," I smile. "And your letters just haven't done her justice." Abbey smiles; she looks like she understands the Jed and Leo story much better. "Now, what the hell are you doing to my sister upstairs?"  
  
"I have done nothing," Jed says, and his brow furrows slightly. "She threw a baseball at me."  
  
Liz finds this particularly amusing, and has a good laugh before running out of the room to check on Josie.  
  
  
  
Dinner was entertaining if nothing else. I thought for a moment that Josie was going to throw a handful of collard greens at Jed, but Aunt Mary intervened. Jed and I did the dishes, then told Abbey to get ready to go into the city for drinks. Abbey was in the living room watching television with the girls, and told us to go on. I guess she realized we had a lot of catching up to do.  
  
We bundled up and walked through town. Jed smiled and laughed as we talked about anything and everything. We had drinks in a nice restaurant in town and it felt like we'd never been apart. It's what I love so much about Jed. Every time I see him, it's just like picking up a conversation after being interrupted for a second.  
  
"Leo, let's go back to the house," he said after a couple drinks. "Abbey and I have a surprise for you."  
  
We caught a cab back to the house and he ran upstairs to get Abbey, who came downstairs still fully dressed even at the late hour. They'd obviously planned carefully whatever they had cooked up. The three of us went into the backyard and sat in the hammock. The stars were very bright above us. I didn't want the night to end, because I was still terrified of telling Jed I'd enlisted.  
  
Jed produced three cigarettes from the inside pocket of his coat. I didn't realize until I was holding one that they weren't tobacco.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Leo," Jed smiled. I'd smoked my fair amount of pot at school, but I never felt the need to bring it up with Jed. I didn't picture him doing it. I smiled back, and then looked over at Abbey, who'd already had her first puff.  
  
  
  
I watch as Abbey kisses Jed good night. The two of them together are like magic. I can't really explain it. They understand each other. Jed was right, as much as I hate to admit it. They seem destined to be together.  
  
"Good night, Leo," she says, as she walks away and slips her hand out of Jed's.  
  
"Good night, Abbey," I say.  
  
Jed is smoking good old Marlboros now, and it feels like a normal night, just sitting outside together. I can't believe I'm going to ruin one of the best nights of my life.  
  
"Jed, I've got some big news for you," I say. I'm still pretty high, and I suddenly wonder if I should wait to talk about this. "Maybe we should talk later when we're both more ... more ..." I'm stumped for the word.  
  
"No, no. Let's hear it," he smiles. I reach under the upturned collar of my jacket to rub the back of my neck.  
  
"Please don't blow up when I tell you this," I say. "You'll wake the whole neighborhood." He drops his cigarette and stomps it out. Then he turns to look at me with his concerned face.  
  
"Leo, what's going on?" I take a long pause and look at him. This may be the last time I can look on him as my best friend. He may never speak to me again.  
  
"I've enlisted," I say finally. He looks confused.  
  
"I don't understand. Enlisted? In what? Summer classes?"  
  
"The air force, Jed."  
  
He sits there, staring at me. I can't tell if the look is disbelief or sheer rage.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because we're in a war! Because it's my duty to fight for my country!" Jed looks unmoved. His lack of emotion scares me.  
  
"We're not in a war, Leo. And you won't be fighting for your country. You'll be fighting for someone else's. There's no conviction on the part of any leader in that god forsaken country, Leo. And you're going to go over there and die. For nothing."  
  
"Not for nothing, Jed. For liberty. This is more communism. The last thing we need right now is for communism to spread. Jack is dead! Johnson is taking us to war, and he's going to do it without your approval, Jed! Why can't you understand that?"  
  
"What I don't understand is why you're signing your own death certificate. For nothing. Absolutely nothing!"  
  
"It's not nothing. It's my duty as an American citizen! Why aren't you enlisted, Jed?" As soon as the words are out of my mouth I know I've gone too far.  
  
"Because I don't want to die for nothing, Leo. It would be different if I knew what the hell we were fighting for over there! But I don't. And neither does anyone else. And how dare you accuse me of running away from my civic duties!" He stands up. "If you want to die for nothing, you go right ahead. If you want to leave Josie and Liz with no one, go ahead. But I won't cry for you, Leo. I won't do it. You know what you're getting into. You're doing it of your own accord! I won't cry for you, Leo. This war is for us, it's not for them. It's Johnson's thirst for blood. If I thought we were really trying to protect liberty, I'd be on the next boat out."  
  
I'm crying. He's crying too, but he keeps right on saying he won't.  
  
"I've cried for you many times. I've cried with you. I've cried because of you. But if you go on to basic, you're dead to me. You'll have betrayed the beliefs that I thought we shared."  
  
"I leave for basic on June sixth," I manage. "Am I dead to you then or now?"  
  
"No use being friends with a dead man," he sobs. I want nothing more than to go and hug him, but he wouldn't let me near him. "Abbey and I will leave in the morning."  
  
And as simply as that, he's turned on his heel and gone back into the house. He's left his cigarettes in the dirt under the hammock. I pick them up and stick one in my mouth. I try and light it, but I'm shaking so much I can't. I go into the house, pocketing his cigarettes and lighter as I cross the yard.  
  
  
  
I stayed up all night trying to think of something to write him. Anything. A passage finally came to me and I jotted it down. I slipped the note into Abbey's coat pocket, and then I went into my room and listened as Jed woke up early and said goodbye to my sisters and Aunt Mary. Abbey sounded very upset, but I didn't dare leave the room. I watched out the window as they both got into the cab and drove away.  
  
I never expected to have my heart broken by anyone, let alone Jed. But here I sit, on the floor in my room, crying hysterically. He might have cried last night, but he won't cry again.  
  
  
  
**************************************************************************** *********************  
  
  
  
I feel like, as I close the back door to Mary's house, I've closed the door on my best friend. My brother. My life.  
  
I lay quietly in the guest room. I wish I could talk to Abbey, but I don't want to wake her up. Plus Aunt Mary would have me in a headlock before I could get across the hall and into her room.  
  
I can't handle it. I love Leo more than anything. But I can't stand by as he goes off merrily to certain death. He talks about defending liberty, but he knows just as well as I do that Vietnam is a death trap for America and everyone in it. I hear him come in and sit down in the dining room. I creep slowly out of the room and sit on the top of the stairs and watch him. This is the last time I'll ever see him. He's still crying as he sits at the table and tries to write. It would be heartbreaking if he hadn't brought it on himself.  
  
I go back to bed and don't sleep. As soon as the sky gets light I get up and get dressed before going in to wake Abbey.  
  
"We're leaving," I say. She's so beautiful, laying with her hair spread across the pillow. I want to curl up next to her and pretend that Leo never said what he said last night. I want to start the holidays over again. I want to go back in time and stop Leo from signing that damn paper. I nearly start to cry as she sits up and asks what's wrong. I shake my head.  
  
"We've got to go now," I say. "I'll tell you on the train. We'll go to Boston."  
  
"Jed," she says quietly. I turn and look at her. "Nothing he has done could possibly be worth all this."  
  
She's right, and I know it in that instant. But it's too late. I've said what I've said, and we've got to go.  
  
"We've got to go, Abbey," I say, and leave the room. Liz and Josie are just getting up, and I tell them we're leaving. I tell them we're going to Boston afterall. Liz is upset, and even Josie looks a little downcast.  
  
  
  
We pack quickly and thank Aunt Mary for everything.  
  
"Jed," Liz says, as we're almost out the door. I stop and look at her. "He loves you. He always will. No matter what happens."  
  
I swallow the lump in my throat and lean down to kiss her cheek.  
  
"I'll write you soon, Liz," I say, and we're out the door and into the cab.  
  
  
  
At the train station, Abbey talks me into going to Manchester. I haven't been back since I left for Boston in June of 1960. Abbey and I have been together for three years now, and she's never met my parents. She's met Delores, and I'm sure Delores has reported back to Mom. I buy the tickets and we board the train.  
  
As the train is pulling out of the station towards Nashua, Abbey hands me a slip of paper.  
  
  
  
Jed,  
  
I understand what you mean. I understand that you won't write me back and you won't speak to me again. But you need to understand that you are my best friend. Understand that I am doing what I'm doing because it's what I believe.  
  
"We shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe - to insure the survival and the success of liberty." - John Fitzgerald Kennedy  
  
I love you.  
  
  
  
  
  
I read the words over and over before I finally begin to cry. Abbey puts her arms around me and I cry into her shoulder for a very long time before falling asleep.  
  
I wake up and we're practically to the station in Nashua. Abbey is reading a biography of Nellie Blye.  
  
"Hey," I say as I sit up. She looks up from her book and smiles at me.  
  
"So, the train stops in Nashua. How were you planning on getting to Manchester?"  
  
"We'll call the Landinghams. Delores will come get us," I say. She shakes her head.  
  
"We'll be sitting in a train station for hours, Jed," she says. This is true. I didn't realize.  
  
"Good point," I say, and frown. She laughs.  
  
"I called your mother when the train stopped in Baltimore," she smiles.  
  
"You called my mother?"  
  
"Yes," she says. "She said Jonathan will meet us at the station."  
  
"The train stopped in Baltimore?"  
  
"Yes," she smiles. "You were really out."  
  
"Jonathan's going to meet us?"  
  
"That's what your mother said."  
  
"Jonathan hates me, you know," I sigh.  
  
"Your brother does not hate you, Jed."  
  
I shake my head and cross the compartment to sit next to her.  
  
"You never cease to amaze me," I say. She leans up and kisses me.  
  
  
  
Jonathan is unusually kind and considerate when he picks us up in Nashua. He looks very, very grown up from the last time I saw him. He's very talkative in the car, and I can't help but silently kick myself for staying away for so long.  
  
We pull up at the farm, and Mom is standing on the porch, waiting. I get out of the car and just stare at the house for a moment before settling my gaze on her. She looks so much older than she did when I left. It's hard to believe that I haven't seen her in four years. We've written and talked on the phone, but nothing substitutes for your mother.  
  
I walk slowly up to the porch, and by the time I get there, she's crying. She opens her arms to me.  
  
"I shouldn't have stayed away so long," I say as I hug her.  
  
"I've missed you," she says. "Welcome home, Jed."  
  
  
  
  
  
My father is sitting behind his desk in the study when I poke my head in the door. He's smoking a pipe and reading the newspaper, exactly as I remember him.  
  
"Hello, Jed," he says, without looking up.  
  
"Hello, sir," I say. He looks up at me. His hair has a lot more grey in it, and there are more lines in his face. I assumed when I left that he wouldn't have much cause for grey hair and wrinkles. Though he is the headmaster of an all boys prep school, after all.  
  
"You look well, son," he says, setting his paper down on the desk. "Your mother says you've been doing very well. Graduating with a masters' degree in four years?"  
  
I nod.  
  
"Did you sleep at all since you left here?"  
  
"Not much, sir," I say, and manage a small smile. He may be trying to be kind right now, but it's only a matter of time before the facade cracks. I can't remember the last time I ever had a conversation with my father that didn't end in a screaming match. I was probably still in elementary school.  
  
"I'm glad you decided to stay with economics and do something productive with your life," he says, and picks up his paper again. I take offense, but I don't say anything.  
  
"I'm going to London in June, you know. The London School of Economics. I'll be there for at least two years, maybe longer," I say. "More than likely longer."  
  
"Very good, Jed. Very good," he says, and I know he's not listening to me anymore.  
  
"Would you like to meet Abbey?"  
  
"Abbey?" He looks up from his paper. "Your mother mentioned something about a girl. I didn't realize she was serious."  
  
"Yes, sir," I say. "Very serious. She's spending Christmas with us. I pray she'll be spending Christmas with me for the rest of my life."  
  
My father gives me a look that sort of resembles a confused fish. I suppose he's confused over the fact that my last name is Bartlet and I'm telling him I'm in love. I love a girl. I'm capable of love. Love is a foreign emotion to my father; he's looking at me like I've just been speaking in Italian.  
  
"Abbey!" I call up the hall towards the kitchen, where she, my mother and my brother are drinking coffee. She stands up and smiles at me as she walks down the hall. I thought she might be a little nervous about meeting the man. I've never said a nice word about him to her. And she's smiling, and walking down the hall. Because she's my Abbey; she's fearless.  
  
She walks into the room and slips her hand into mine.  
  
"Sir, this is Abbey Garrett," I say. Dad hurries to his feet and comes around the desk to shake her hand.  
  
"It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Bartlet," she says as she shakes my father's hand. Abbey sort of looks at him for a minute.  
  
"And it's nice to meet you, Abbey," Dad finally returns. "Is something the matter?"  
  
"Oh, no, sir," Abbey says quickly and smiles. "I always pictured you as, well, a lot shorter."  
  
Dad laughs. My father laughs. The man with the heart of stone laughs. Things couldn't get any stranger.  
  
"Well, that's understandable. Jed got the short gene from his mother's side of the family, I'm afraid," he says. Then he leads her out of the room, they walk down the hall, and sit down at the table in the kitchen with my mother and Jon.  
  
I guess it's my turn to do the fish face.  
  
**************************************************************************** *****************  
  
I can't believe I'm an alumnus of something. A graduate. A former student. Aunt Mary, Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Ray, Josie, Liz, and Noah Lyman came to graduation. Noah, as luck would have it, was in town to take a deposition the entire week before graduation. We did a lot of catching up. His daughter Joanie is eight now, and they have a one and a half year old son, Joshua. I envy Noah a lot. He's got everything he ever wanted. A great job, a loving family, and a beautiful house in Connecticut. He worked his way through Harvard, supporting a wife and Joanie. If Noah can do it, I'll do it too.  
  
That is assuming I ever make it back here. I packed all my things and drove to Atlanta after graduation, and I'm leaving for basic training in two days. I'm prepared for it. I know that Josie and Liz will be fine. If I don't make it back here, Jed will take care of them. He'll take care of them because he loves them like his own sisters.  
  
I haven't spoken to him since the the twentieth of December. Almost six months. It's almost hard to believe. And I don't think I'd be alive right now if it weren't for Abbey's letters. She's written me almost every week to let me know how he's been doing. She said she thought the thesis was going to kill him for a while. She said he recited equations in his sleep. I wrote her back and told her I was surprised she got him to sleep at all. She tells me he misses me, even if he doesn't say it. She can tell. He hasn't been the same since they left Atlanta.  
  
She agrees with Jed, obviously, about the whole Vietnam situation. I understand where they're both coming from. It's just a sense of duty I feel. Abbey understands that, too. Jed's lucky to have such an understanding woman with him all the time. Any ordinary woman would have dumped his arrogant ass by now. But not Abbey. She loves him almost as much as I do.  
  
In her last letter she sent both cap and gown pictures. Jed's lost weight, if that's possible, though I'm sure he'll gain it back once they're across the ocean together. Abbey is graduating summa cum laude, and she's been accepted at Harvard for medical school. She's going to wait though. Jed will be in London for at least two years, though I suspect once they get there Jed won't want to come back for a while. She wants to go with him, and I couldn't be happier for the both of them. I keep waiting to get a letter telling me he's proposed.  
  
  
  
All my things are packed into one duffel bag and a backpack. Someone told me not to go crazy with the packing, because they're going to go through all my possessions as soon as I set foot on the base. So I've got some civilian clothes, even though I won't get to wear them until I'm done with basic. I've got some books, though I'm not sure I'll get to keep them.  
  
I take Josie and Liz out to dinner the last night I'm home. Then we come home and watch Johnny Carson, and the two of them kiss me on their way up to bed. My cab to the airport is coming at eight, and they tell me they'll be up to see me off. Once I hear both bedroom doors close, I put my shoes back on and get ready to go back into town and drink myself silly for the last time for six weeks. I don't worry about running or push-ups or being screamed at. I worry about having no alcohol for six weeks.  
  
The breeze is cool as I walk through the city. I keep walking, past my usual pub, and realize I'd rather be outside tonight than sit in a noisy pub. I'd rather be alone. After all, it's the last time I'll be truly alone for at least six weeks. I may as well enjoy it. I take a cab back to Aunt Mary's place and get out to pay the driver. As the cab drives away, I notice a car in the driveway. My stupid hopes are dashed as I realize it's an Oldsmobile, not the beat-up old Ford I've been wishing for since Jed left in December. It must be Lizzie's boyfriend. He's an all right guy, but he's got no business being here after midnight.  
  
I enter the house and go upstairs to find no light shining under Lizzie's door. This makes me angry and I throw the door open, dreading what I might find. I find Lizzie, alone in bed, asleep. A wave of relief washes over me as I shut the door quietly and cross the hall to open Josie's door. Josie is awake reading, and gives me a look.  
  
"There's a car in the driveway," I say. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't have some guy up here."  
  
"Go to bed, Leo," she says, rolling her eyes at me. "There's no way I'm getting a guy in here past the abstinence squad."  
  
"Shut up," I reply, grinning, and close the door. I guess one of the neighbors parked in our driveway.  
  
I go into the kitchen and pull an almost-full bottle of scotch out of the liquor cabinet. I don't even bother with a glass, I just take the bottle and move to go into the backyard and lounge in the night air on the hammock. Then I notice a light out the window. Someone is in the backyard smoking.  
  
I open the back door quietly and step down onto the grass. It's Jed. He's sitting in the hammock, smoking a cigarette, just like he was the last time I saw him. I feel my eyes start to well up and try to remember what he said to me. Try to remember that he's the one who walked out on me. I don't say anything, but walk across the yard and sit next to him in the hammock.  
  
It's completely silent. I can hear Jed's cigarette burning. I take a long drink of scotch and turn to look at him. His gaze is fixed on the house.  
  
"Remember before, when I was being an idiot?" He finally speaks.  
  
"Vaguely," I reply. It's so good to hear the sound of his voice.  
  
"I forgot to tell you something," he says.  
  
"No, I think you said it all pretty well," I say, trying not to let my voice crack.  
  
"You have to come home, Leo. You can't die over there."  
  
I don't know what to say to him.  
  
"You have to be my best man," he says after a beat. "You have to be godfather to my children. You have to be my best friend."  
  
"I never stopped being your best friend, Jed," I say. "You walked out."  
  
"There was something I forgot to mention before," he says, still looking at the house.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I'm sorry," he says, and turns to look at me. "I don't know what the hell I was thinking, Leo. I guess I'm just scared."  
  
"You're scared? You're not the one that has to learn how to fly a plane in six weeks," I smile. He chuckles.  
  
"I'm scared you won't come home," he says, his voice suspiciously hoarse.  
  
"I'll come home, Jed. In addition to you, I do have two baby sisters to take care of," I say. "I knew you'd be angry. I knew you'd be scared. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."  
  
"I'm so sorry, Leo," he says, and his voice finally breaks. "Please forgive me."  
  
I hold my hand out to him, and he shakes it. Then I stand up and pull him out of the hammock.  
  
"I was never angry, Jed. Just scared you wouldn't come around. I've missed you," I say, and put my hand on his shoulder. "But you did, and that's all that matters to me."  
  
I clap my hand on his shoulder a couple times. He's crying. I lead him into the house and poor him a drink. We've got a lot of catching up to do.  
  
  
  
**************************************************************************** *********************  
  
In the morning, Leo wakes me up and says I should drive him to the airport. Josie and Liz wake up and are, well, completely shocked to see me sitting at the kitchen table. We all eat breakfast together, just like we always have. Leo sends me out to the car, and he's in the house a long time saying goodbye to his sisters. I can't imagine how scared they are right now. But they know their brother. He'll be back. He wouldn't leave them without supervision.  
  
He finally comes out of the house, duffel bag in hand, backpack over his shoulder.  
  
"Let's go," he says, and we pull out of the driveway.  
  
  
  
His flight is right on time, unfortunately. I've only had my best friend back for six hours, so it's a little difficult to let him go. He checks his duffel and I walk with him to the gate.  
  
"You'll look after Josie and Liz," he says, a statement more than a question. "Even from London."  
  
"And I'll write to you. I'll send you newspapers and candy bars and liquor. Can I send you liquor?"  
  
"Not until I'm out of basic, but after that I'll be counting on you," he smiles. "I'll probably go to Germany after basic. That's usually where they send you to get orders. Maybe I'll get Italy or Greece, but I doubt it."  
  
"And you'll be back," I say. Because he will be.  
  
"I'll be back, Jed. There's no way in hell I'm leaving you in charge of my sisters for too long. They've been corrupted enough as it is."  
  
We both try to laugh, but it's hard. There's a very tight feeling in my chest. I don't think I've ever been this scared before. We stand looking at each other for a minute or two, and then they call his flight over the PA.  
  
"That's me," he says.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
I reach into the pocket of my jeans and pull out my rosary.  
  
"You're going to need this more than I will," I say, and hand it to him. He looks down at it, and I can tell he's crying.  
  
They call his flight again. I put my hand on his shoulder.  
  
"They're calling your flight," I say. He nods, not looking up. I pull him into a hug. "You don't have to hide from me, Leo."  
  
He pulls back and looks up at me.  
  
"I'll be back," he says, and pockets the rosary. I nod, and feel myself begin to tear up.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Jed," he puts a hand on my shoulder. "It's gonna be fine."  
  
He hugs me again, and I start to cry. He kisses my cheek, and stands back for a moment, smiling.  
  
"Yeah," I finally manage.  
  
The voice over the PA says last call. He stands and looks at me for one more moment, and then he turns and runs out the gate. He'll be fine. He'll be back.  
  
  
  
TBC 


End file.
